


It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn

by Junliet



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Death, F/F, Gun Violence, Hand to Hand Combat, M/M, Mafia AU, Sexual assualt, Torture, mafia, will update as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 17:17:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19795408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junliet/pseuds/Junliet
Summary: One thing was for certain. Daisuke Takahashi never held back when it came to throwing extravagant parties.((The prequel fic to You Were My Angel with extra angst, extra pain, and less fluff xx))





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! People have been asking me for this fic for a while so finallyyyyy it's started. I'm not 100% sure exactly where I'm going with this but hopefully I'll work it out and this will meet some of your expectations.
> 
> Anyway, this is much more intense than You Were My Angel. I was going to call this: "I'm sorry Yuzuru." Yeah, so, please please please be aware of this before you start reading. It's like this from the beginning, so yeah, please be aware. 
> 
> Anyway, without further ado, thank you so much for reading this and for supporting this story!!!

One thing was for certain. Daisuke Takahashi never held back when it came to throwing extravagant parties.

_“You and Patrick will attend. Gather information, don’t get caught, and don’t overstep what we’ve told you, alright? It’s a masked ball so you shouldn’t easily be identified. Clear, Javier?”_

_“As crystal Brian.” The younger man nodded and rubbed at his neckline lightly. “Information, and don’t get caught. Should be easy enough.”_

Javier lingered at the edge of the room, just surveying everything; his relative inexperience made him hesitant to dive right into the thick of the room and start charming the other people around him. He watched instead. Patrick had dived right in, blending into the mess of colours, wearing a pale blue shirt that dipped low in the middle and was decorated in black flowers across the shoulders. Black thread lined the edges of the dip and overlapping parts of fabric, and Patrick had on a pale blue mask lined with black and decorated with black feathers to match. He was chatting away easily to a group of people like it was second nature to him.

Javier smoothed out the front of his shirt, still feeling quite out of place. His black shirt with red sleeves and white crystals lining the V-neck front was like the polar opposite of Patrick’s costume. The sleeves had a gradient down to black at the wrists with silver sparkles in the cuffs. The costume had a red collar as well as a low red edge to the bottom of the shirt between his black shirt and trousers. He adjusted the red, Spanish style lace mask decorated with black lace that covered from his eyebrows to his cheeks before he sipped at his Espresso Martini cocktail.

Everywhere else in the room, people were milling around in elegant costumes, and all their faces were hidden to some extent by different styles of mask from across the world. Takahashi had gone all out on the decorations; everything was decked out like the hall from Romeo and Juliet. Elaborate gold decorations covered the walls, and the whole hall was lit only by candlelight for the atmosphere. The main theme colours were gold, black, and red. At one side of the room was a bar serving the cocktails and other drinks to the guests and, at the other side, there was an elaborate buffet laid out across an entire wall that was frequently restocked by staff.

The real attraction, however, was at the opposite end of the hall to the main door. Two staircases framed the walls and led up to the higher floors containing bedrooms and unspoken promises of the night to come. Between the two staircases, however, was a slightly raised section of the room with an elaborately decorated throne at the centre of it. Seated there, Javier could tell even through the mask, was Daisuke Takahashi himself. Wearing an entirely black suit decorated in streaks of silver sparkles and black feathers on the shoulders, he also had a very similar mask that appeared to be made of silver rhinestones and black feathers only. With a glass of red wine in his hand and a cold smirk on his face, he held himself like a king overlooking his court.

What really made him look like a king, however, was the decoration in the room that stole Javier’s attention. Kneeling next to the throne with his back towards it, was a very young, slender man. His slim form was clad in a black and red costume made from feathers. It showed off his collarbones; the neckline dipped low down his chest. Black and white rhinestones lined the edge of the neckline, nestled in between the feathers, and it linked to black trousers that looked almost painted on they were so tight. His face was hidden behind a Venetian style mask decorated in swirls of red and black curled together, and the edges were lined with red and black rhinestones too, but Javier, even from across the room, could see his nearly black eyes. What really made Daisuke look like a king though, was the gold collar that was clasped around the young man’s neck. It was connected, by a gold chain, to one of the arms of the of the throne. Pulled taut, it kept him kneeling and close to Takahashi.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Javier was shaken out of his thoughts by a man smiling at him from by his side. “Not Daisuke. Daisuke’s new plaything.”

“Plaything?” Javier couldn’t help but ask, looking back at where the young man stayed kneeling, motionless even as Daisuke idly trailed his fingers up and down the back of his neck, playing with the collar. The softness of his cheeks and clear lingering baby fat hinted to Javier how young he actually was, and bile rose up in his throat. “How old is he?”

The other man’s smile fell to a frown and he took a sip from his own martini glass. “Given Daisuke’s reputation and the looks of him, no older than seventeen I’d say.”

Javier choked on his drink. “Seventeen? Seventeen years old? That young?”

“At most. He does look very young, doesn’t he? Maybe he’s sixteen or fifteen.”

Javier shook his head with a sigh and the other man raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m sure if you paid enough, Daisuke would let you have an hour or two with him. Even from over here, I can see he has very beautiful eyes. I’m sure they’d look good looking up at you when his mouth’s wrapped around your dick. I wonder if Daisuke’s done it to him.”

With a polite smile, Javier excused himself to go to the bathroom. With a final look back at the man, no the _teenager_ , chained to the seat in the main room, Javier stepped outside and leaned against the wall of the hall to breathe. Along the wall from him, one person was pressed against the wall by another, their mouths entwined as they ground against each other. Javier ignored them in favour of trying to keep his martini and food down.

That was a _kid_ chained to the seat, and another guy told him to imagine getting a blowjob from him after telling him to _pay for him_ for hours.

Being in this business, Javier didn’t have that many morals left. The ones he did have, he stuck to like glue.

Javier Fernandez did not condone _that_ happening to a child.

* * *

“Everyone’s eyes are on you, Yuzuru,” Daisuke purred, words slightly slurring together as he leaned forwards and stroked the younger’s hair, “so how does it feel to be the centre of attention? How does it feel to have people jealous of your beauty? Look at me. I want to see your beautiful face, Yuzuru.”

Yuzuru swallowed before he turned, still on his knees, and slowly he raised his eyes from his hands placed neatly on his legs up the chair to meet Daisuke’s eyes. His near black eyes were wide and expressive, even behind the mask. The older man looked down on him, holding his gaze firmly, before he sipped from his glass again.

“I really lucked out with you, didn’t I Yuzuru?” He stroked his cheek gently and Yuzuru did his best not to flinch. “The earthquake may have been a tragedy for Sendai,” Yuzuru did flinch then, “but you crawling on your knees to us for help was a blessing. You on your knees in general is a blessing, Yuzuru. Look at you, especially in that costume.”

He reached down and unlocked the collar, letting it fall away onto the plush red carpet of the hall. Yuzuru looked down at it and Daisuke stroked the top of his head with a smile that might have been soft had it not been from Daisuke himself.

“Go and have some fun tonight Yuzuru,” he smirked, “but be back by the end of the night. You wouldn’t want me to be lonely, would you?”

Yuzuru fluidly brought himself to his feet and bowed his head to the other before he slipped from by the seat and down into the crowd. Heads turned, following him as they all stared at the very low back of his costume, and Yuzuru slipped out of the hall to press himself against the outside wall and breathe. He wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and sex out in the open but it was better than Daisuke’s overpowering cologne that he’d grown far too used to smelling and the mix of perfumes in the hall that brought him close to sneezing and irritated his throat. Outside, even though it smelt awful, it wasn’t as overpowering as inside was because there was no one looking at his exposed back, collarbones, eyes, and imagining fucking him over the next available surface.

“Here,” Yuzuru looked up to see a hand holding out a sealed bottle of water to him. He followed the red sleeve up, along the curve of his shoulder and neck, up to see a soft smile and the most beautiful, doe like eyes he’d ever seen. His face was half hidden behind a red mask decorated with black lace, and soft brown curls framed his face, “you look like you could use it. I swear I haven’t done anything to it.”

“Why should I trust you?” Yuzuru asked with a raised eyebrow, but he still took the bottle from the man and broke the seal. Taking a tentative sip, he paused before he nodded. “Doesn’t taste salty or off. Looks and smells like normal water. Thank you. But why?”

“One question at a time,” the stranger replied. “You should trust me because I’m not someone who wants to use you for sex, and I gave you the water because I thought you’d be thirsty and you didn’t look like you could get yourself a drink from your position. Now I get to ask two questions.”

Yuzuru raised an eyebrow at him but sipped at the water in silence, allowing the other to speak. He cleared his throat, studying Yuzuru.

“First of all, your age?”

“Seventeen. I’m seventeen-years-old.”

The stranger bristled and Yuzuru watched him almost curiously as his mind worked to think of the next question.

“Why were you chained to the leader’s… throne?” He asked carefully.

It was Yuzuru’s turn to bristle. He looked away, looked down at the floor, looked anywhere other than the stranger’s wide eyes that made feelings run through him. He swallowed thickly and finished off the bottle of water before he spoke up in a very small voice.

“Because he… controls me. I’m… I’m his…”

“You’re his plaything. So, it’s true then.”

"I-I... Honestly, I wish I could say I wasn't but..." Yuzuru swallowed and rubbed at his arm, "I guess I'd be lying then."

"I'm sorry," the stranger said with a sigh, "um, your turn."

Yuzuru looked at him curiously for a moment. "Your name? Please?"

The other paused for a moment. "Why should I tell you?"

"It's my turn to ask the question and your turn to answer." Yuzuru said firmly, maintaining eye contact for someone.

"Javier," the other said finally. "Or Javi, if that's easier for you to say."

"Javier," the Japanese man said slowly, thinking as he spoke. "I like it. It sounds nice. Where's it from?"

"One question at a time," Javier said with a little chuckle, "and I believe it's my turn to ask. What's your name?"

"Whatever my client wants to call me," Yuzuru said a little coldly, too cynical for a seventeen-year-old, "but my real name is Yuzuru."

Javier studied his face in the low light, frowning at him. Yuzuru's face was still hidden behind the mask, but he was still so alluring and beautiful in a way that made Javier's stomach lurch. He'd looked so enticing, like a beautifully served dessert presented on a silver platter, when he'd been chained to Daisuke's chair, but Javier's morals were firm and strong. Yuzuru's revelation about his age made Javier's insides squirm. Yuzuru, however, in the low light outside the hall, with a thin sheen of sweat across his skin and his face half hidden behind the mask, looked even more beautiful to Javier than he had before.

"Ask me a question," Javier said softly, "it's your turn now."

Yuzuru looked across at him, adjusting the mask around his eyes, before he nodded. "Why are you here?"

"I have a job to do." Javier answered. "Can I ask you the exact same question? Why are you here?"

A shadow fell over Yuzuru's face, and not just from the low lighting outside the hall. "Why am I here? Do you remember the earthquake a few years ago?"

Javier's eyes widened and he swallowed the lump in his throat as much as he could. "I-I heard about it. But I never... I never thought about it that much because I was in Spain and it was in Japan and so far away."

"I was there." Yuzuru's voice was small and laced with guilt and pain. "I was there in the middle of it, a-and my world... Everything was destroyed." he mumbled more to himself. "I-it took me days to find my sister. A-and more days to find out that our parents were dead. We were desperate."

"Shit, Yuzuru, that's awful," Javier raised a hand gently and rubbed his back as comfortingly as he could. "I'm so sorry."

"I didn't know what else to do," Yuzuru slid down the wall and sat down on the ground, holding his knees. "I'd met Daisuke once before, and I thought he could help us." He laughed, shaking his head. "He didn't help us. He promised to rebuild Sendai, sure, but he took so much from me. I refused to let my sister get hurt. She's... She's safe now at least, so that's okay."

"I have a sister too," Javier sat down next to him with a soft smile. "Back in Spain."

"You work with Stephane's group?"

Javier frowned a little and shook his head slowly. "Not Stephane, no. Sorry."

Yuzuru looked away. "Shame. Daisuke has a sort of alliance with Stephane, so I was hoping I could see you again. You seem nice."

Javier snorted. "You don't know anything about me and you think I'm _nice_? You know where I work. What I do. And you think I'm nice?"

"I think you're nice because you haven't tried to grope me or fuck me yet." Yuzuru said, standing up again, "so thank you I guess."

"You're thanking me for being a decent human being? What are you--"

"Hanyu, are you out here? Daisuke needs you inside." Someone called out into the darkness.

Yuzuru panicked. Thinking fast, he grabbed the front of Javier's shirt and pulled him against him so that Javier fell and pinned him against the wall. Swallowing down his pride and fear, he cupped Javier's cheeks and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. To an onlooker, Javier had pinned Yuzuru against the wall and was making out with him.

Javier hardly dared allow himself to enjoy the kiss because it was so forced. Yuzuru's panic was evident in his motions, and, after a short while, Yuzuru pulled away from him.

"I'm sorry," was all he whispered before he slipped out from Javier's arms and disappeared into the shadows again.

"Hanyu! You're a mess right now, but it'll have to do. Daisuke's negotiating with a client and he needs your help."

Javier's stomach turned and he supported himself against the wall as he was sick.

* * *

Yuzuru's collar was clasped around his neck again, and a tipsy Daisuke took hold of the other end of it. Weaving through the crowd, Yuzuru shivered a little as hands from the guests reached for him, caressing his waist, touching too low, rubbing his shoulders, and stroking his hair. He shrank away from them and followed Daisuke like a compliant puppy. Not that he had a choice, however. He was pulled along by his throat and, unless he wanted to choke, he had to rush along to keep up.

As the crowd was focused on Yuzuru and Daisuke, a slim young woman watched with a grim expression. Behind her pale blue mask, her deep brown eyes filled with conflicting emotions before she slipped up one of the staircases quickly. Her long blue dress with the gradient from dark blue by her shoulders down to white on the floor had a dipped back that earned the attention from the few who weren't entirely transfixed by Yuzuru's bare skin, but she remained focused on the task at hand as she made her way out of sight.

She grimaced as she passed some of the rooms, hearing pleading mixed with panted moans, and she slipped along the corridor. With no guards stationed on the floor, as most were stationed around Daisuke and his newest toy to show off, she was able to easily pick the lock of one of the rooms and slip inside.

"I've been waiting for you, Kim Yuna."

A small smile slipped onto her face as she pulled off her pale blue mask, careful to avoid knocking her intricate bun in her hair. "I've been looking for you all evening too, Asada Mao. You missed Daisuke throwing a tantrum when he couldn't find his newest..."

"Bitch," Mao supplied, pushing herself out of Daisuke's office chair. "As much as he hates to be reminded of it, Daisuke owns that kid."

"Like he owns you?"

Mao wrinkled her nose in disgust and pulled her own dark blue mask off, letting it drop to the floor. "He hasn't owned me since we met, Yuna."

Yuna sat down on the desk in front of Mao, scanning her short, electric blue dress that appeared to have been made of fire or feathers fanning out from Mao's naval with a black underskirt. "No one owns you. No one can. To contain this power, this beauty, to hold it back from the world..."

"Yes?" Mao leaned towards her, resting her hands on the desk on either side of Yuna's waist.

"Is a crime," Yuna whispered, cupping Mao's cheeks.

"He's a crime lord."

Yuna chuckled, placing a soft kiss on Mao's lips. "I'm done with this game, Mao. I won't be playing it again anytime soon. I'm going away from Canada, back home to South Korea, and away from it all. This is my last mission."

"Then I will savour every single second we get together," Mao whispered into Yuna's neck, already reaching for the back of her dress as the Korean lay back on the desk.

* * *

Long after the party ended, Yuzuru finally stumbled out of the hall and along the deserted street, still in his mask and costume with white stains covering his cheeks, collarbones, and the upper portion of the black feathers. He leaned against one of the walls for a second and tried to swallow. His throat was so dry, his lips swollen and red, and sticky tears mixed with cum coated his cheeks. Shaking with sobs he wouldn't let himself voice, he reached with a trembling hand for his phone and dialled a familiar number.

"K-Keiji? Please can you help me? Again." He whispered, leaning back against the wall so that the black of his costume, mask, and hair, would help him blend into the darkness and shadows.

"Hey Yuzu," the shaking teen looked up to see a man, a similar age to him, offering him a blanket. He ran a hand through his curly hair and Yuzuru all but jumped into his arms. "Let's get you home and changed, okay? You need out of this shit."

Yuzuru nodded and pushed himself against Keiji's side like an animal nuzzling against another for comfort. Keiji kept a hand on the small of his back as he guided him back to a comfortable apartment in Tokyo for them. He unlocked the door and helped Yuzuru into the room.

"Go take a shower. I'll get some of your clothes, okay?"

"Thank you for getting me," Yuzuru mumbled before he slipped into the bathroom.

Keiji watched the door shut firmly and heard the lock. Shaking his head with a sigh, Keiji turned on the kettle and made two cups of tea. After what felt like hours, Yuzuru emerged from the bathroom into his room, and he then emerged with still damp hair wrapped up in a too-large hoodie and loose sweatpants. Keiji passed him the mug of tea silently as well as a bowl of noodles. Yuzuru half smiled at him before he looked down into the mug with tears in his eyes and unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

"It's not your fault," Keiji said, sighing a little. "Sorry, I don't know what else to say."

"Thank you for picking me up and taking me home," Yuzuru mumbled, sipping at his tea, "but you should go to sleep Keiji. It's getting late and he'll probably call us in tomorrow for something or another."

Keiji nodded and stood, patting his shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up about it." He said softly.

Left alone in the room, tears ran down the sides of Yuzuru's cheeks again before he buried his face in his arms, shoulders shaking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji rolled out of bed, hair a mess and with a suspicious stain that smelt of wasabi on his shirt, and stumbled into their main room. He raised an eyebrow at Yuzuru’s slim form curled up on himself on the sofa. His eyes fluttered open and Keiji blinked at him with a half-eaten piece of toast in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This story is a mess and I'd like to apologise to Yuzuru for it. This chapter is mostly everyone moving on from the last chapter and planning their next moves, but yeah, bigger stuff is coming in the next few chapters. Speaking of: I'm going away for a few days on Saturday and so I won't update this story for at least a week. Sorry. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this, and sorry xx

Keiji rolled out of bed, hair a mess and with a suspicious stain that smelt of wasabi on his shirt, and stumbled into their main room. He raised an eyebrow at Yuzuru’s slim form curled up on himself on the sofa. His eyes fluttered open and Keiji blinked at him with a half-eaten piece of toast in his mouth.

“Morning.” He said softly as Yuzuru sat upright, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” He stood up before he covered his mouth and dashed to the bathroom.

Keiji winced at the sounds of heaving coming from the bathroom mixed with Yuzuru’s poorly concealed sobs. For someone allergic to alcohol, Yuzuru had held it together very well last night after being fed drink after drink to keep him soft, pliant, and open for Daisuke.

_The only positive thing,_ Yuzuru thought to himself as he dry heaved for the nth time, _is that I can barely remember what happened last night with him._

Someone knocked on their apartment door and Keiji checked the peep hole before he opened it up.

“Morning Keiji,” the man stepped in with a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Me?” He said with a raised eyebrow as he poured the other tea into a chipped mug with a stupid cat pun on the side. “I’m fine thanks Nobu.”

“Dare I ask about Yuzuru?”

“I was hoping I could ask you about him actually,” Keiji sat down, finishing his toast. “What the fuck did Daisuke actually do to him last night?”

Nobunari went pale and looked down into his mug to avoid looking at Keiji. The sounds from the bathroom had stopped, and Yuzuru emerged gingerly, sitting down at the table across from them with his eyes downcast at the table.

“I don’t really think that’s for me to say, Keiji.” His tone softened and he smiled gently at Yuzuru. “How are you feeling Yuzu? You okay?”

“I’m tired.” He mumbled. “And sore. And feel like absolute shit.”

“Sorry to burst your happy mood,” Nobu said dryly, taking a file out of his bag and placing it on the table between the two others, “but Daisuke has said that the two of you are to come out on a mission with us next week in New York. Apparently a certain someone annoyed Daisuke for the last time last night.”

“Oh God, why? Why can’t he just stop being an arrogant, flamboyant asshole for a few hours of his life?”

“Because ‘that wouldn’t be fun, darling! Would it Keiji?’ He needs to show off at all hours of the day.” Nobu supped at his tea with a sigh. “Whatever. Daisuke just wants him to be taught a lesson.”

“And we’re the ones to do it because…?” Keiji asked with a fierce frown. “No offense to Daisuke, but we’re new here. Really new here. I’ve been here, what, just under a year? And Yuzu’s been in this game…?”

“Unofficially since I was fifteen. Officially… just under ten months.”

“Neither of us has been properly trained. Daisuke just shoved us in this apartment and told us to wait for our first assignments.” Keiji pointed out. “So, is this like a training run, or—?”

“Daisuke wants to pay Weir back for causing a scene at the party. It’s all in the file apparently. Where you need to be, when, what you’ll do, how, what you’ll wear, why, every minute of every day will be dictated for you. You won’t have to think. You’ll just have to act how they tell you to act.”

Yuzuru frowned. “And if what they say goes to shit and something happens that they didn’t account for?”

Nobu took out his own transparent and colourless earpiece, showing the pair. “Then whoever is on intelligence for the day, right now I think it’s Mao, will tell you what to do in that situation. We work as a team. Intelligence rely on field workers to give them information to plan their next moves. Field workers, in turn, rely on the Intelligence to keep us safe and alive when we’re out there. Some people, like Mao, are talented and independent enough to do both themselves. And heck, us field workers rely on those who smuggle and move drugs around, because the things we see leave marks and make it harder and harder for us to live with it on our consciences. As much as Daisuke likes to pretend he’s some kind of all-powerful king or God, he’s really just another shitty human like the rest of us.”

He stood up and gestured to the file on the table before he secured his earpiece again. Keiji and Yuzuru both watched him with pale faces. Nobu gave Keiji a pat on the shoulder and Yuzuru a little smiled before he left both of them alone again.

“Hungry?”

Yuzuru shook his head, leaning on the table.

“Thirsty? Do you want some tea maybe?”

“No thanks,” he mumbled.

“I guess we should read the file.” Keiji said with a soft sigh, placing his hand very gingerly on Yuzuru’s back. The other suppressed his flinch as he opened up the file.

There, in the front, was a picture of a very familiar American man to the two. His name, written in neat and deliberate Katakana, was printed at the top of the page.

JOHNNY WEIR

AGE:27

ASSOCIATIONS: UNITED STATES OF AMERICA GROUP. NEW YORK DIVISION.

ADDED DETAILS: Show off. Weak to any opportunity to dress up. Speaks Russian and has spies in the Russian group. Do not trust with any information. Will twist it. Has access to lots of it, however. Used to sleep with everyone for his information. Does it less, however still does it.

“You can tell Daisuke wrote half the notes,” Keiji hummed lightly. Yuzuru read them too and looked at his hands.

“That’s not what he’s going to make me do, is it?” Yuzuru asked Keiji very quietly, pointing at some of the information.

Bile rose up in Keiji’s throat that he struggled to swallow down. He and Yuzuru were the same age, and yet it felt like they were at completely different stages of their lives. Keiji was still a seventeen-year-old at heart, who made mistakes and was a little immature. On some days, Yuzuru was similar to him and could joke around like the teenagers they were. On other days, however, shadows passed over his face, and he retreated in on himself, becoming like a child unable to hold in his emotions, or becoming much too grown up too fast.

“I hope not,” Keiji whispered, pulling Yuzuru into a hug and rubbing at his shoulder to console him.

* * *

Yuna blinked awake and held the knife under her pillow firmly as she took in her surroundings. The soft, cotton sheets, the fluffy white pillows, the comfortable duvet, the cream curtains, the large mirror on the wall opposite to the bed, the neat suitcase on the sofa in the room, all of these let her relax and kept her at ease as she sat up, taking in her state. She was still in her blue dress but her hair, that had initially been tied up in an intricate bun, had half come down from a combination of fingers running through her hair and her tossing and turning in the night. Looking at the mirror, a large red hickey stood out on her neck against her pale skin. She touched it with a small smile at the memories before she removed all the pins from her hair, letting it fall down her back, and she slipped out of her dress and into the shower.

When she returned to her room, in a fluffy white bathrobe, Yuna took the memory stick out from where it was tucked in the pocket she’d sewn into the inside of her underwear. She smiled, drying off her hair before she wound it back up into a complicated bun and slipped the stick into the middle until it was hidden from sight.

_Yuna: I have it, Mr Orser_

_B: The flight to Seoul for you is in five days_

_B: The others will join you that far before they will transfer. Give them the stick in Seoul_

_Yuna: And then?_

_B: You’re free to stay in Seoul_

_B: Thank you for your service_

_Yuna: Likewise, Mr Orser_

Putting her phone down on the table, she slid on the leather straps on her thighs and put two knives into them securely. She then slipped on new underwear and buttoned up her white shirt. Slipping on her neat black trousers and shrugging on her black, suit style jacket, she tucked her phone into her inside pocket before she smiled and headed down the hotel stairs and into the lobby.

Striding through like she owned the place, Yuna took in all her surroundings. Picking the corner table so that she could watch the whole room with her back to two walls, she watched the comings and goings of everyone in and out of the lobby. Ordering a latte, and watching its production like a hawk, Yuna sat back and watched.

“J’s not down?”

“Nope.” She said softly as Patrick slipped into the seat next to her. He ordered himself a cappuccino and the pair sat in silence.

Yuna tapped the inside of her wrist and Patrick shrugged. He glanced around, taking note of where all the security cameras were placed, before the pair leaned closer together over Yuna’s notebook on the table

_I have it. We leave one at a time. You first, then him, then me. I’ll tell him when he gets here. For now, head up to your room and get your bags. Check out like normal, then get the train and go. We will all meet in Seoul. It’s safer._

Patrick nodded and finished his coffee. Standing up with a smile, he patted her shoulder before he slipped up the stairs and out of sight along one of the corridors, off to his own room. Yuna watched him go as long as she dared before she went back to observing the rest of the lobby.

_You’re late J._

_I know. Sorry._

_It’s fine. No harm done. I won’t tell B. I have it. We leave one at a time. Patrick has gone. Then you, then me. Go and get your bags and check out like normal. Get the train and go. We’ll meet in Seoul then. It’ll be safer._

Downing his espresso, Yuna watched with a neutral, almost blank expression as Javier headed up to his own room too. She went back to observing, almost pointedly ignoring him as he left. She instead traced her fingers lightly, trying to force down the memories.

_“How,” Mao panted against Yuna’s neck, “are you so good at this? Too much practice on yourself?”_

_Yuna turned and caught her mouth in a kiss as she sped up with her fingers, silencing Mao’s moan with their kiss. When she broke it, she sighed in pride and pleasure at the expression on the other’s face. “Maybe I just want to hear you scream for me.”_

_“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Mao told her in a fleeting moment when they met in Europe. “Your hands,” she held Yuna’s in her own as long as she dared to, “are so beautiful. And yet I know they could kill me if you wanted to.”_

_“I wouldn’t kill you Mao.”_

_“You could. And I wouldn’t mind.”_

_“This is for you,” Yuna told her once, handing her a thin gold ring. “You don’t have to wear it. But I think it would look good on you, and maybe it would remind you of me?”_

_“Nothing,” Mao told her with confidence and love in her voice, “would ever make me forget you. They could wipe my memory and I’d still find my way back to you. I’ll get you one too. Then we’ll match.”_

She fiddled with the slim gold band around her right ring finger and sighed, shaking her head before she stood from the table and headed up to her room. Loading two guns, she tucked one in her inside jacket pocket and strapped one to her waist.

“One more push until freedom.” She whispered to herself in the mirror before she picked up her bags and left the Japanese hotel room without looking back.

* * *

_“What does he do to you?” Yuna asked quietly, stroking Mao’s back tenderly. She traced the small bruises like they were stars on a star map, drawing the constellations. “He… What’s he done to you…”_

_Mao cuddled up to her and she and Yuna held each other in their arms. Yuna stroked her back gently, mindful of all the injuries that Mao had littered across her body._

_“He’s messed up, and he likes it rough.”_

_Mao half chuckled, placing a kiss on his forehead. “He is, yes, but I don’t really have much of a choice anymore with this. What I can do now, though, is try and lessen the blows for the others. Try and make them safer and happier.”_

_“You care too much for this.”_

_“So do you.”_

“Mao,” Daisuke tilted his head slightly before he stood from his desk and waved a hand at the guards, “to what do I owe the pleasure? I thought you were working with intelligence on getting everything ready for next week.”

Mao nodded, walking over to him with a frown and a sigh. “Daisuke. Why are we doing research on this? Why do you now want Weir? Yes, he dressed like a pretty princess at your party. Big deal. Don’t throw a tantrum like this. He’s not worth it.”

“Mao, what are you trying to say?”

“He didn’t upstage you.” Mao said quietly. “He didn’t upstage you, and he didn’t upstage your newest toy. Calm down.”

Daisuke slammed a hand on the desk in anger. “It’s not that he upstaged me that I’m mad about, clear? I’m mad that he thought that he could waltz in here, be so… Shameless, and try and treat _my toy_ like that.”

“You’re like children.” Mao narrowed her eyes at him. “Both of you. If you start another all-out war with the Americans all because your ego has been bruised a little, I personally will smack you into a wall until your nose is broken so much it can never be repaired, clear?”

Daisuke smirked at her and sighed, reaching for her waist with a smile as he stroked her side lightly. “There’s my beloved Mao. That’s what you have that he lacks. You have this amazing power and fight in you when he lies there like a submissive kid and cries. You at least fight me.”

Mao cupped his cheeks and pulled him into a rough kiss. Daisuke’s hands slid to her hair, pulling out the tie to let it tumble down loose. He pushed her back, pinning her against the wall as they continued with their kiss. Mao loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt when he placed a finger on her lips lightly.

“The desk, or my bedroom?”

“Choose,” she whispered to him through pants. “You choose.”

He smirked, pulling away from her. “Room. It’s better. Come on.”

As soon as Daisuke’s door was shut, he and Mao were back in their battle for dominance. A trail of clothes led from the doorway over to the bed as they desperately made their way to the bed.

“Do you want to play, Daisuke?” Mao asked, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Get on your knees.”

* * *

Yuzuru and Keiji had only been to headquarters a few times before properly, and never like this. Never in the backseat of a black lexus with Nobunari driving them in a painful silence, laced with anticipation. Tokyo sped by them, and Yuzuru looked out of the window just so that he had something to do other than think about the man they were going to meet. It was like the weather was reflecting their mood; the car was caught in a January rainstorm and the water hit against the car doors and windows.

Driving into an underground car park, Nobu stepped out of the car and gestured to the other two. Guards surrounded them and Keiji shifted closer to Yuzuru as they approached. Nobu didn’t leave them completely alone. He wouldn’t leave them completely alone. Being with Mao and Daisuke for a while, he knew exactly what could happen with the guards when it came down to it.

The group was led through winding, sterile white hallways. Some of the ones deeper in the interior of the building had carpets, and the group was led up to the second floor. Even Nobu took a deep breath before he knocked on the door.

“Enter.”

The double oak doors opened and Daisuke was smiling behind his desk with the grin that made Yuzuru’s stomach lurch. He smoothed down the edges of his suit, watching the two seventeen-year-olds with interest. Next to him, Mao was sitting on the edge of the desk and Yuzuru thanked any deity that would listen that he hadn’t eaten anything that morning. The crumpling of her dress was a tell-tale sign to him about what had happened.

“Thank you, Nobu,” Daisuke said looking past him. “Keiji Tanaka and Yuzuru Hanyu. Nice to meet you two properly. You’re doing your first field work next week and I thought I should give you a little briefing. You’ll each be given weapons at the start of your jobs. Your first one is pretty fun and interesting. You’re going to be making sure Johnny Weir knows not to play me for a fool again. Clear? You can keep the weapons and, if you find a body, you can keep anything you find on them. I’m talking money, drugs, weapons, watches, clothes, car keys, anything you want. Nobu and Mao will both be with you to make sure you don’t accidentally point the gun the wrong way and blow your brains out or do something dumb.”

Yuzuru and Keiji exchanged a look and Daisuke tilted his head with a small smile. “Oh, and one more thing. I don’t like people failing my missions.” He said with a smirk that sent shivers down their spines. “So, if you succeed with this mission, and I really hope you will, there will be some nice rewards for you. But, if you fail with this, and I hope you don’t, I will have to teach you boys a lesson. Clear?”

“Clear, Takahashi-san,” both boys mumbled together and the leader nodded.

“Good. And Yuzuru?” The younger paused and, moving his eyes very slowly, he made eye contact with the older.

“Yes?”

“You looked beautiful last night. Everyone who had the pleasure of meeting you all said the same. You were like the sparkling gemstone in the crown of the party.”

_How did you find one like this, Takahashi?_

_Seventeen-years-old and already this beautiful?_

Yuzuru barely registered the rest of Daisuke’s words, Keiji’s hand on his waist leading him out, getting back into the car, and getting home to their apartment, but he came back to his own head enough to realise Keiji had tucked him into his bed with a pooh bear by his side.

“Rest. If you need to move to the sofa to sleep better, then do that, but try and rest, okay? You looked ready to pass out in that room, not that I blame you. I’m sorry, Yuzuru.”

“Don’t be,” Yuzuru mumbled into his pooh. “See you later.”

“Sleep well. Or at least sleep less badly than recently.”

“I’ll try.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Here is the plan for you,” Mao handed them another file before she started pointing things out with it. “Simple. We get separate flights to the States. Keiji, you will go directly to New York. Nobunari, you will fly to Pennsylvania, and Yuzuru, you will fly into Ontario. I will fly into Vermont, and then we will meet at the rendezvous point by the Empire State Building in a week’s time. From there, we will meet and discuss the final plan for Weir, alright? If something goes wrong, do not panic. Remember what Daisuke told you, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I can continue with this story but I thought I had to try. This chapter I'm not happy with but it's something, right? I'm sorry it's been literally 4 months since I touched this fic. I just couldn't look at it because of everything going on. Sorry. Thank you so much for reading it and supporting it xx

“Here is the plan for you,” Mao handed them another file before she started pointing things out with it. “Simple. We get separate flights to the States. Keiji, you will go directly to New York. Nobunari, you will fly to Pennsylvania, and Yuzuru, you will fly into Ontario. I will fly into Vermont, and then we will meet at the rendezvous point by the Empire State Building in a week’s time. From there, we will meet and discuss the final plan for Weir, alright? If something goes wrong, do not panic. Remember what Daisuke told you, alright?”

Yuzuru shuddered and Keiji bit his lip hard. Both exchanged a look before they took their files and read through them.

“Everything will be fine if we stick to the plans. I have written out six different plans. We will go with plan A first, and then adjust depending on what goes wrong. Machida will be on our earpieces, and so he will be giving us advice whenever he can. He’s hacked into the national cameras in America before. He can do it again. There’s an earpiece in each of your files. Any questions?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one,” Keiji cut in, flicking through the thing, “how exactly am I meant to get a handgun onto a plane?”

Mao rolled her eyes. “You think Daisuke hasn’t paid them off? That’s one of the easiest parts.”

Yuzuru wrinkled his nose, reading through his instructions. “What am I meant to do in Ontario before my planned train to New York?”

“Sightseeing,” Nobu cut in, standing up. “Excuse me. I need to talk to Daisuke.”

“He’s busy,” Mao cut in, frowning, “what do you need from him?”

“We need to talk about some of his… newest ideas and playthings.”

Mao didn’t try to disguise her look at Yuzuru before she sighed. “You should know he’s not going to change his mind.”

“The least he could do is not show him off like he’s a piece of meat.” Nobu cut in firmly, normally soft eyes hard instead.

“It’s Daisuke,” Mao stood up too walking towards the door with Nobu next to her, “what do you expect? He’s like a human magpie that’s obsessed with pretty things. He’s fucked up, but aren’t we all?”

Keiji slipped a hand into Yuzuru’s and pulled him out of the room quickly. Mao and Nobu watched them go with heavy hearts.

“He’s just a kid,” Nobu said finally, “seventeen. He’s too young.”

“Not to Daisuke.” Mao grimaced. “Believe me.”

“I do,” Nobu patted her shoulder before he pulled her into a hug, “I believe you Mao. I just wish I didn’t.”

She hugged him tightly, hiding her face in his shoulder. The pair stood there for what felt like hours, just holding each other. After what felt like hours, they finally parted. Nobu passed Mao a tissue with a weak smile and she wiped at her eyes.

“Thanks,” she said softly, steeling herself again, “I guess I have to go and tell Daisuke about the plan.”

“Good luck,” Nobu patted her shoulder. “I’m going to find those two, hopefully before anyone else does.”

Mao slipped out of the room and down the hallway, pausing to take a breath and swallow when she got to the huge double oak doors at the end of the hallway. She opened them up and slipped inside, closing the door firmly behind her. Alone, she settled herself in the plush chair behind the desk, putting her feet up and crossing them over at the ankles, plain black heels standing out against her pale skin and the wood of the desk. She sat back, idly looking through her phone as she waited.

“What are you doing here?”

Mao looked up and smiled, not moving as Daisuke came over to her. He slammed down a stack of papers next to her feet but she didn’t even flinch. He towered over her, exhaustion clear on his face, and she slowly and deliberately put her phone in the inside pocket of her suit jacket.

“Tired?”

“I’m not in the mood for games, Mao.” Daisuke said coldly, walking behind the chair to pour himself a glass of sake. “Why are you in my office?”

“Thought you might like some company, but I take it that the meeting went so badly you don’t want company or companionship.” She sighed, moving to stand up.

Daisuke slammed his hands down on the desk on either side of her, towering over her with a fierce glare. He looked at her for a moment with a frown, eyes narrowing.

“Get me Yuzuru.”

Mao’s eyes widened, showing the slightest bit of fear and Daisuke’s own narrowed. “I’m right here Daisuke—”

“I don’t want you Mao,” he snapped, shoving the chair and sending her sprawling onto the carpet, “I want him. Get him, now.”

“He’s leaving for Canada in a couple of days, Daisuke, and he’s only young. He won’t recover as well—”

“Did I ask for you to give me his sob story, Mao?” Daisuke poured himself another drink, downing the sake on the rocks, “No, I didn’t. Go and get him.”

“He won’t recover in time for—”

“Then that’s his problem!” Daisuke snapped. “I’m stressed, Mao, in case you didn’t fucking notice!”

“I did notice,” she said with a glare as she pushed herself to her feet, “which is why I offered—”

“I. Don’t. Want. You.” Daisuke snarled, “because you’re less fun to manhandle.”

“Oh, it’s one of these moods, is it?” Mao huffed. “Get him yourself. I’m not doing your dirty work for you.”

Daisuke huffed, peeling off his neat black suit jacket and draping it over the back of his chair. “Get out if you’re not going to be useful.”

“I’m putting together a plot for you to take Weir down a peg or two. How is that not being helpful?”

Daisuke glared at her, pouring himself one more glass before he pressed one of the secret buttons on the side of his watch. A small boy, no older than eight, stuck his head around the door, blinking wide with his deep brown eyes.

“Yes, Takahashi-san? You called for me?”

“Go and get Hanyu, Shun,” Daisuke waved a hand at him, “bring him to my room. Not here.”

Shun bowed low to Daisuke before he scampered off, shutting the office door behind him. Mao folded her arms, turning to him.

“I sincerely hope you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”

“Not yet,” Daisuke admired his nails, “because dear sweet little Yuzuru has offered to take the burden for Shun.”

Mao blinked at him, mouth half open in shock. “Pardon?”

“I’m teaching him a lesson, Mao. The more people you have close to you, the easier it is to get hurt.”

“He’s young, Daisuke. He’s lost nearly everything. Of course, he’s going to be willing to sacrifice so much for the few things, the few people, he has left.” Mao sighed. “You wouldn’t understand. You never lost everything to be here.”

“Oh spare me,” Daisuke hissed, “and get out if you’re going to tell your stupid sob story again. Oh no, you lost your mother. How fucking sad Mao.”

Daisuke ducked the knife thrown at him that embedded itself in the wall.

“Shut the fuck up Daisuke,” she hissed, turning, “bastard.”

“You always come back to me though, don’t you? You’re fucked up and addicted and you need your fix. I’m your drug, Mao. You need me.”

Swallowing down her self-hatred and anger, Mao didn’t dignify Daisuke with a response as she all but ran out of the room.

* * *

Yuna sighed, relaxing into her train seat as it sped along the tracks from Tokyo to Nagoya. She was going to Nagoya, Patrick was on his way to Fukushima, and Javier was going to Sendai. Each was going to a separate airport where they would then fly to Seoul before Yuna would give them the details they’d acquired. Javier and Patrick would then go back to Toronto, and Yuna would stay in Seoul.

_B: How is everything going_

_Y: I have it_

_Y: On my way to N. J is to S. P to F_

_Y: We’ll meet in three days’ time_

_B: Good luck_

She smiled, glancing around before she pressed herself against the window. With an empty seat next to her, Yuna slipped the memory stick out and loaded all the information onto the laptop. There were hundreds of files and, as Yuna loaded them onto another memory stick, her curiosity got the better of her. She opened up the first one with an English title on it.

_Daisuke,_

_This is the information on the latest shipment. It will arrive at dawn at the docks. The total worth is 108205000 yen. Paid in full in advance._

Yuna raised an eyebrow. So that’s what Mao had meant by Daisuke’s lucrative business deals. Yuna shook her head, scrolling through more of the information she could understand. The majority of it was in Japanese, however several business deals were written in English for international trade and ease. Daisuke, it seemed, was having fun trading everything and anything he could. Drugs, billions and billions of yen worth of drugs like cocaine and heroin; weapons like guns, daggers, throwing knives, and different kinds of swords to name a few; steel; oil; land; property; and, of course, people. Yuna wrinkled her nose at one of the documents that contained pages and pages of different profiles. She suppressed a gag as several profiles were written up in English containing too much detail. She recognised the kanji at the top, Yujo, although she wished she didn’t. She closed the file quickly, too pained to look at the rest of the file when she read a name in Hangul instead of English or Japanese. She slammed her laptop shut, calming herself down. She glanced out of the window at the rolling views, taking the time to calm down her breathing. Part of her was desperate to message Mao, begging her to tell her that it wasn’t true, but she knew that it was. This was their life and, even if Brian had kept this aspect out of the Toronto group, Yuna wasn’t stupid enough to believe it didn’t happen. She shook her head, trying to clear it as she settled back into her train seat.

* * *

Across the country from her, much further north instead of south, was Javier. He set down his suitcases in the lavish hotel room in one of the only standing buildings in the area that wasn’t temporary. When Yuna had told him to go to Sendai, he hadn’t thought twice about it. Sendai was just another city in Japan as far as he was concerned. It was until he arrived there.

It was a disaster. Even ten months after the devastating earthquake that shook Sendai, Japan, and the entire world, there was still so much damage there. Javier looked out across the horizon towards the Pacific Ocean, towards Toronto and, further beyond that, Spain. Between him and there, though, there was intense destruction.

_Yuzuru looked across at him in the darkness outside the place where Daisuke had decided to throw his over the top party, adjusting the mask around his eyes, before he nodded, tilted his head at Javier, and spoke up. "Why are you here?"_

_"I have a job to do." Javier answered carefully, watching offering Yuzuru another bottle of water that he took gratefully. "Can I ask you the exact same question? Why are you here?"_

_A shadow fell over Yuzuru's face, and not just from the low lighting outside the hall. "Why am I here? Do you remember the earthquake a few years ago?"_

_Javier's eyes widened and he swallowed the lump in his throat as much as he could. "I-I heard about it. But I never... I never thought about it that much because I was in Spain and it was in Japan and so far away."_

_"I was there." Yuzuru's voice was small and laced with guilt and pain and Javier’s eyes widened with shock and empathy. "I was there in the middle of it, a-and my world... Everything was destroyed." he mumbled more to himself. "I-it took me days to find my sister. A-and more days to find out that our parents were dead. We were desperate."_

_"Shit, Yuzuru, that's awful," Javier raised a hand gently and rubbed his back as comfortingly as he could. Yuzuru shivered, and it wasn’t just from wearing a backless and low-cut costume outside in the middle of the night around New Year. "I'm so sorry."_

_"I didn't know what else to do," Yuzuru slid down the wall and sat down on the ground, holding his knees. His voice crackled lightly with vulnerability that he choked on. Now that the words were coming out, he couldn’t stop speaking to Javier. For some reason, he made Yuzuru feel like he was a safe person to speak to. "I'd met Daisuke once before, and I thought he could help us." He laughed humourlessly, shaking his head before he bit his lip hard and let his hair fall over his eyes. "He didn't help us. He promised to rebuild Sendai, sure, but he took so much from me. I refused to let my sister get hurt. She's... She's safe now at least, so that's okay."_

Looking at the destruction and the evidence of the construction work across the city, the weight of the words fell onto Javier’s shoulders in a way that they had no right to. He’d met that kid once, _once_ , and he was already feeling the guilt, the pain, the turmoil in his heart? That’s not how it was meant to work.

_“You ever been in love Javi?” Patrick asked him, tossing a knife into the wall idly. It hit the target not quite dead on, but close._

_“Once. It was a classic sort of high school crush. I thought I loved her. Then it turns out I didn’t have a problem leaving her cause I didn’t really love her.” Javier shrugged. “You?”_

_Patrick snorted. “Loving someone is a death sentence for us, Javier. You fall in love and they can break you. They can shatter you if they ever find out about the love, and you become more reckless because you want to protect your lover. It’s just a shitty idea. If you take any advice from me, and you shouldn’t most of the time, then take this. Don’t fall in love.”_

Javier blinked at the horizon again, as the long shadows grew due to the sun setting on the other side of the hotel to his room. Everything looked so wrong but yet so right as the beautiful heavenly orange and pink hues of the sunset touched the disaster riddled land.

“Don’t fall in love Javi. Don’t.” he told himself quietly before he drew the curtains and loosened his tie. “It’s not worth it.”

* * *

“Hanyu-san?”

Yuzuru and Keiji looked up at the doorway to their apartment, and the former frowned slightly at te guest.

“Shun?”

“Takahashi-san has called for you.” Shun said, trying to catch his breath. “He wants you in his office now.”

Keiji placed a protective hand on Yuzuru’s lower back and Yuzuru lowered his eyes in shame. “I’ll be up. I’ll wait up for you, in case you need me, alright?”

Yuzuru nodded, pushing himself to his feet. “Did he say anything or—”

“Just that you need to come now,” Shun smiled nervously. “Sorry. There’s a car waiting.”

The car ride back was awkward as silence hung heavy in the air. Shun was too young for Yuzuru to speak to about anything that was going on, and Yuzuru sincerely hoped that the seven-year-old had no idea what was going on with him and the boss of the place.

“I miss home,” Shun said finally, “do you ever miss Sendai Yuzu?”

Yuzuru’s breath caught in his throat and he swallowed. It wasn’t something he really let himself think about for fear of breaking down over everything he’d lost. From feeling safe around the buildings that tickled the sky to sitting under cherry blossom trees in April with his sister and family for hanami, every memory of Sendai hurt Yuzuru. Everything was so painfully different in Tokyo, but still had a way of dragging him back to remember all he’d lost.

“Yes,” Yuzuru replied finally as he climbed out of the car, “I do, yes.”

Mao met him at the door, deep eyes full of unspoken sorrow and apologies, and she took over from Shun. Yuzuru followed her up the all too familiar staircase to Daisuke’s office.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally once they were outside the oak doors, “I tried to—”

“It’s okay,” Yuzuru told her quickly, plastering on the fake smile that tricked so many before her, “it’s fine, Mao-san.”

She patted his shoulder. “Just Mao is fine, Yuzuru. I’ll sort out a car for you later so that you can get home safely. Once…” she glanced at the door, “once he’s done with you.”

She left him alone, heels muffled by the carpet as she walked off. Yuzuru swallowed and knocked lightly on the oak doors. His jumper felt too heavy, his jeans too tight, shirt constricting around the neckline, everything felt too much and Daisuke hadn’t even done anything to him yet.

“Enter.”

Yuzuru slipped inside, swallowing when he saw Daisuke standing by his desk, swirling another glass of sake that he sipped at. His eyes visibly changed when he looked at Yuzuru, eyeing him not like a person.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Daisuke said finally, breaking the silence of the room. He closed the distance too easily, trapping Yuzuru between himself and the oak door. He reached just past Yuzuru’s waist to lock the doors before he let his hand settle on Yuzuru’s waist, stroking it lightly with his thumb, “because I want to play tonight.”

“D-Daisuke—”

“There’s only one rule for tonight,” Daisuke cut Yuzuru off like the other hadn’t said anything, “No talking or making any noise unless I tell you to. Otherwise you’ll get a punishment. Clear?”

Yuzuru nodded, and Daisuke smirked, already half tugging the younger’s jumper up. “Good. Because I have something new planned today. And I’m going to love it, even if you don’t.”

Daisuke threw Yuzuru’s jumper across the room before he all but ripped the button up shirt off him, sending a few stray buttons rattling across the floor. Yuzuru let out a small whine, earning a slap.

“I thought I told you not to make a noise,” Daisuke tutted, picking something up off his desk: several slim ropes. “That means a punishment.”

* * *

It was well into the morning until Yuzuru was free from Daisuke’s office and desk. He stumbled along the corridor as if intoxicated when really, he was trying to ignore the sticky feelings across his whole body. Daisuke’s guards didn’t give him a second glance as he stumbled into the car and all but fell into the backseat. No words were exchanged with the driver. As they set off towards Yuzuru’s apartment, the seventeen-year-old in the back of the car shoved his jumper sleeve over his mouth to try and muffle his sobs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was almost terrifying how easily Yuzuru managed to make it through airport security with three hand guns in his carry on bag, hundreds of rounds of bullets in the carry on bag too, and eight knives strapped to him beneath the sharp suit he'd found hanging up in his wardrobe with a little note from Daisuke on the hanger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pokes head out of hibernation* H-hi? Hello? Um, hi, yes, this story is back? Kind of? Ish. I've had a lot of trouble with writing it so I'm so so so sorry it's been a while since it was updated. I will try to update it more frequently in the future.   
> Anyway! This chapter. This kind of feels like filler, sorry, but I do hope you all enjoy it (Is enjoy the right word?) Thank you for reading xx

It was almost terrifying how easily Yuzuru managed to make it through airport security with three hand guns in his carry on bag, hundreds of rounds of bullets in the carry on bag too, and eight knives strapped to him beneath the sharp suit he'd found hanging up in his wardrobe with a little note from Daisuke on the hanger.

_For my best and favourite little yariman x_

_Yuzuru screwed up the handwritten note and tossed it somewhere towards the bin. It missed, bouncing off the edge of the silver rim of the bin. Ignoring it, he traced his fingers lightly across the lapels of the black Armani suit jacket. With a small frown that he couldn't conceal, he tugged off Keiji's shirt that he'd swiped to sleep in. Tugging on underwear with a flinch at how sore he felt, he then pulled on the trousers, buttoned up the shirt, and adjusted the jacket on his shoulders._

_It fitted perfectly. Of course it did; Daisuke knew his measurements by heart after tracing every inch of his body with his tongue and fingertips countless times. These also weren’t the first clothes that Daisuke had ordered for Yuzuru. The young man shuddered when he thought back to the black and red feathered outfit from Daisuke’s extravagant party. Shaking it off, and with almost a cursory glance back at the apartment, Yuzuru pulled his small suitcase after him and out of the house. He walked out and got straight into the black Toyota Crown Majesta waiting for him, closing the door behind him and his black carry on case. He'd packed the main case with the clothes he'd need, which was loaded already into the car, but Daisuke had packed this one for him the night before. He hadn't dared take a look in, not that he really needed to. Daisuke had told him enough for him to know what was in there. He only picked it up, as he was told to, and left._

_The car sped through the nearly deserted streets of Tokyo early in the morning and Yuzuru kept his gaze fixed out of the window as the scenery sped past in a blur of the green, grey, and blue. As the car pulled into the turning circle by the airport, the driver turned around in his seat and handed Yuzuru a blue passport with the gold flower decoration on the front and a boarding pass tucked in between the photo pages of it._

_"Don't worry, Hanyu-kun. Just keep calm, don't make a scene, and everything will be sorted out. Your name, in there, is Kawaguchi Yuki. Keep calm. Don't panic. When you get on the plane, put in the earpiece."_

After showing his passport and getting patted down after heading through the airport scanners, with the guard touching one of the knives strapped to his thigh and glaring at him, Yuzuru was somehow let through. Acting like a somewhat normal person, he pulled his case along after him and flopped down in one of the seats at the gate. To try and get rid of his fear, he opened up his passport to scan through the documents he'd been given so that he could come up with a good cover story.

_Kawaguchi Yuki. Kawaguchi:_ _川口_ _means "mouth of the river"._ _川_ _, kawa, meaning "river or stream"._ _口_ _, kuchi, meaning "mouth or entrance"._

Yuzuru wrinkled his nose at that, glaring at the passport; if looks could kill then the passport would have set on fire.

_"You know, for someone with little experience," Daisuke spoke with a highly smug voice as he pulled his trousers back up and stroked Yuzuru's hair where the teenager was kneeling on the floor before him, still coughing and spluttering with strings of saliva and cum trailing from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, "you are very good at this Yuzuru. You look so beautiful on your knees. It's like you were made to be there. Born to be there. Your mouth has been crafted by angels. Now clean yourself up; I have guests coming soon. Unless you’d rather they got to see you like this? They might want a little go themselves if they did."_

With a suppressed shudder that earned him a weird look from the elderly lady who had decided to occupy the seat next to him, he turned back to his documents.

_Yuki:_ _由貴_ _._ _由_ _meaning "reason, cause" combined with_ _貴_ _meaning "valuable"._

"Of course," Yuzuru muttered to himself, firmly closing the fake passport with a groan, rubbing his face with his hand, "of course he would choose a name that basically means that. Of course, because that's all I am to him."

The lady next to him raised an eyebrow at him and elbowed him lightly to catch his attention. "You know, if you slouch like that too much you'll hurt your back."

Not responding, Yuzuru boarded the flight and, after stowing his case up in the overhead locker, he settled in his aisle seat next to a young woman and a toddler that Yuzuru assumed was her child; the toddler was next to the window. Yuzuru, in preparation for the twelve hour flight, put in his earphones and settled down to try and relax for as long as he could before his job would start.

* * *

She arrived in Nagoya without a hitch, stepping off the train and onto the platform with the memory stick and data stored in a secret pocket sewn on the inside of her skirt. Holding her bag in her hand tightly and walking with a firm confidence, she made her way out of the station with an almost practiced ease and up, through the city, towards her hotel. She checked in using the few Japanese phrases she had picked up during her field work and the fake name and persona she had used for her entire journey. She smiled and thanked the member of staff who had led her up to her room before she unlocked it, closing the door behind her. She leaned against it, trying to calm down a little, before she frowned and collected her thoughts. She didn't say a word; she put her bags down on the bed before she went over every inch of the room and checked it for bugs, for wires, for microphones, for cameras. In the bathroom mirror, embedded in there, she saw the telltale blinking red light of a hidden camera. Pulling the duct tape out of her bag, she covered over it and nodded to herself. She then carried on, covering up the one in the wardrobe as well as the one in the top of the television in the room. When she finally, finally deemed her room safe enough and free from wire taps and cameras, she dared to dig out the memory stick. She tucked it inside an envelope and buried it at the bottom of her case.

_Y: Fuku?_

_P: Arrived. On my connecting train to N_

_Y: Any word from J?_

_P: Not yet. Did he arrive?_

_Y: Not sure. I'll find out._

She closed the conversation with Patrick, feeling slightly better about herself and their situation knowing that he was on his way to her and that the data was going to be transferred from her hands to his soon enough, allowing her to go home. She almost, _almost_ smiled as she opened up her conversation with Javi.

_Y: Sen?_

_Y: J?_

_Y: J, what's going on?_

_Y: I can see you're reading my messages_

_J: No one said it was this bad here_

_Y: What do you mean?_

_J: This city. No one said it was this bad_

_J: Everything is so bad here_

_J: It's devastated. The whole city is reduced to almost nothing Y_

_Y: Yes very sad we're not here to admire the view. Are you on your way to N?_

_J: No._

_Y: Why not?!_

_J: Missed my train. I'll get the next one_

_Y: You're distracted. You need to come here as soon as possible._

_Y: We have a job to do, J. Keep calm and keep your head on straight. Clear?_

_J: Clear_

_Y: Good. And keep a low profile. You're too popular sometimes for your own good_

Javier put down his phone and haphazardly shoved clothes into his suitcase. The view of Sendai beyond his window hurt him to see. It was almost painful to see the state of the poor city, brought to her knees and reduced to rubble by the water and earthquake.

His mind moved unconsciously back to the poor black haired boy dressed in the red and black feathered outfit that he'd seen chained to the ridiculous extravagant throne, the one that he'd met properly outside. The one who had seemed so beautiful, so perfect, so untouchable on the outside but was so delicate, so sensitive, and so vulnerable on the inside when Javier got past his layers. Yuzuru had been shaking with fear and, looking at Sendai, Javier could understand why.

_To be sixteen and lose your parents and home in such devastation, it's no wonder that Yuzuru turned to someone, anyone for help. It's just a damn pity that the person he turned to happened to be Daisuke and the fucking mafia._

But why was Javier's heart pounding so much when he thought of Yuzuru? He'd only met him once and yet he wanted to cup the other's cheeks, smooth the hair out of his eyes, pull him into a gentle kiss, and protect him from all the evils of the world, and--

_Oh shit._

_I'm in love with Yuzuru Hanyu. I'm in love with the plaything of a mafia boss. I'm in love with the plaything of Daisuke Takahashi. I'm in love with someone who is stuck in the other mafia group._

Javier flopped down on his bed and held his face in his hands, rubbing his forehead and running his hands through his curls.

_Dear Lord above I'm fucked in so many ways. What the hell would Patrick do if he found out?!_

_No. He can't find out. No one can. Not even, no, especially not Yuzuru. If anyone find out we would probably both be killed for it, or be made to kill the other. This has to remain my secret, and my secret alone._

* * *

Patrick stepped off the train in Fukushima, acting as inconspicuous as he could. Business men and women had darted around him, all but rushing to get to their own trains, as he weaved through the crowd to get to his train to Nagoya. He boarded it easily and settled down in his seat when he got the texts from Yuna. As the train set off from the station, he settled down back into his seat and half smiled to himself. Compared to other work they'd done, this had been one of the cleanest missions they'd undertaken. All he had to do was get the data from Yuna once they reached Nagoya, and then he and Javier would return to Canada while she parted from them and went to South Korea. So far, everything had gone off without a hitch.

But why? Patrick sat more upright in his seat and shifted a little uncomfortably as he thought about it. Other times, at least one person from one of their sides had got an injury, usually a bullet wound somewhere. Patrick unconsciously rubbed over the back of his left calf, remembering the gift that Daisuke had given to him during their last encounter before the party in New Year, silently swearing his revenge to him and his whole damn group. Patrick chewed his lip as he looked out at the Japanese landscape speeding past him as he sat there on the train, hand unconsciously resting on the hand gun slipped in his pocket that he kept as protection and defence. He noted each passenger who joined his train carriage: a young mother and her two children who settled several seats away, a pair of tourists with suitcases that he assumed were a European couple, three Japanese businessmen that were dotted throughout the carriage, checking their phones in silence, and an elderly lady with a little girl sitting next to her. The girl was staring at him with big dark eyes that reminded Patrick way too much of the dark eyes of the young man he'd seen being paraded around and shown off in the middle of the party. He gave her a very small wave and a light smile, earning a shy smile back as she hid her face in her grandmother's side. The grandmother gave him a smile too, and Patrick felt a little at ease.

They stopped at some station, Patrick didn't really understand what they were saying, and the flustered young mother ushered her children off the train and out onto the station. Not that Patrick cared; he was just noting the comings and goings within the carriage to pass the time. The fly that had somehow got into the carriage and was buzzing around above everyone's head: he noted it. The group of teenagers that settled in the carriage at the opposite end to him: he noted them. He fiddled with his phone: no new messages.

Something just wasn't sitting right with him.

With an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, Patrick stood with and picked up his suitcase. He wasn't near his station, he knew that much, but he just had to get to a bathroom and out of the carriage. He could feel the little girl's gaze as it was still fixed on his back as he left. As soon as he stepped into the intersection between the two carriages, he leaned against the wall near the door just to catch his breath.

"Nice to see you again Chan." Patrick tensed when he heard the accented voice speak up. "Nice time in Fukushima?"

"Hoping to have a better time elsewhere, Kozuka. If you wanted me to spend time with you, all you had to do was ask."

The other raised his handgun, holding it without blinding up until it was level with Patrick's eyes. "Where is it?"

Patrick blinked at him, trying not to react as he stared down the barrel of a handgun. "Where is what? Fukushima? North of Tokyo, South of Sendai? Don't even know the geography of your own country?"

Takahiko narrowed his eyes at Patrick in a firm glare as he adjusted his grip on the handgun, still holding it level. "I said: where is it? And I don't mean Fukushima."

Patrick blinked at him, giving him a fake innocent look. "No idea what you're talking about."

Takahiko smirked. "Although you behaving and complying would make my life more difficult, when you mess around it makes my life more interesting. You tell me or--"

"Or what? You'll embed a bullet into my brain? Then what? Oh, you never find out. No, you need me alive, Kozuka, or you'll never find it."

"Then we'll find your little accomplices. We think we've found where she is, and we're close to finding where he is."

"You think there are only three of us?" Patrick chuckled. "Poor deluded Kazuka. And poor deluded Daisuke, cause I'm assuming that he's the one who is holding your leash."

"I'm not Asada or Hanyu," Takahiko dismissed, "so I don't spread my legs for him. But you were the only three we caught on camera."

Patrick chewed his lip, studying Takahiko's stance. His Japanese was incredibly rusty and limited, but he knew his numbers and that announcer just said three. Praying it meant three minutes until the next station, Patrick grabbed hold of Takahiko's hand that was holding the gun and he tugged him by his little finger so that the weapon was thrown across the space. Throwing off the other's balance, he shoved Takahiko in the shoulder and made a break for it into the carriage. Takahiko regained his balance and chased after Patrick, tackling him by the midsection just before the other reached the doors of the carriage. Patrick grunted and twisted around so he was on his back with Takahiko holding down his limbs to keep him down. Patrick threw up his head and caught the other squarely in the jaw with his forehead before the grip on his limbs was loosened and he brought a knee sharply up to the other's groin. Realising that he couldn't run from this, Patrick put as much distance between the two of them as he could. Thinking, he shoved Takahiko's gun in his bag so that the other couldn't use it against him. Takahiko swung for him, catching his ear with his fist. It stunned Patrick, sending him reeling back a little as a second strike caught him in the jaw. He retaliated with two strikes to Takahiko's stomach before the other blocked him and all but tried to throw him across the section of the train. They were slowing into a station now; Patrick could hear the announcement. He stumbled before he regained his balanced and swiped out Takahiko's feet from underneath him before the train doors opened and he bolted into the Nagoya station crowd.

* * *

"What's going on," Nobu folded his arms over his chest as he scanned through the files on his desk and spoke down the phone, "is everything going to plan?"

Daisuke, from across the room, glared at him and studied his body language. Despite working together for years, Daisuke always had trouble deciphering Nobu's feelings and emotions from his body language, however Nobu could usually work out what Daisuke was thinking or planning from his body language and facial expressions. Daisuke was more of an open book, especially when he was angry. It was hard to read anything other than anger in the face of a man throwing a glass wine decanter at you, as Nobu and Yuzuru had found out on a particularly bad evening.

"Well?" Daisuke asked, raising an eyebrow at him not out of curiosity but more out of frustration that he didn't know every detail of his chess pieces' moves. "What's going on?"

Nobu lowered the phone and rubbed at his forehead with a grimace. "Machida. Hanyu has got on his plane, as has Tanaka. Mine isn't until tomorrow and neither is Mao's. Apparently most things are going to plan and Tanaka is safely on his way to New York and will be landing in about ten hours. Hanyu's--" a shout from the phone stole Nobu's attention and he turned away from Daisuke with half an apologetic smile as he raised the phone again. "Yes?" His face turned pale at whatever Machida said to him down the line and he nodded, expression tight and set. "I understand. I'll tell him."

He hung up the phone and all but threw it down onto his desk before he turned to Daisuke, looking like he might collapse at any moment. Daisuke raised one eyebrow at him, silently questioning him.

"Takahiko lost Chan, and Yuzuru's plane has been hijacked."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuzuru Hanyu had been through a hell of a lot when he'd been kept at Daisuke's side for his every whim, and so very little phased him. Or that's what he'd thought until he'd felt the cool metal of the barrel of a gun was pressed to the nape of his neck and he was all but dragged off the plane before he had a chance to defend himself or struggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, welcome back to this story! This chapter is MEAN. M E A N! BE WARNED! Okay, that's your one warning. If you're mad at me for it being mean, you were sufficiently warned.   
> This chapter introduces another character properly, has a fight scene, some feelings, and some meanness at the end. I don't know what else to say that won't spoil it so I hope you enjoy (?) it and thank you so much for reading x

Yuzuru Hanyu had been through a hell of a lot when he'd been kept at Daisuke's side for his every whim, and so very little phased him. Or that's what he'd thought until he'd felt the cool metal of the barrel of a gun was pressed to the nape of his neck and he was all but dragged off the plane before he had a chance to defend himself or struggle. The plane doors were opened and Yuzuru was all but wrestled from the plane and shoved into a black car. His wrists were secured behind his back in cool metallic handcuffs that bit into his soft skin. His bags, collected by someone else, were thrown at his feet in the car and, before he could get a good look at the people holding his life in their hands, a black blindfold was slipped over his head. The doors slammed and he felt people sit down next to him; their legs brushed his as the car set off. He squirmed around, trying to get more comfortable as he was strapped in with his arms trapped between his torso and his car seat by the seat belt. When he squirmed too much, he received a sharp slap to the side of his head.

"Stop squirming," a rough masculine voice hissed. The American accent was crystal clear and Yuzuru's heart leapt to his throat.

_Fuck._

After what felt like forever, the car came to a stop. He heard the car doors open up and strong hands pulled him out. He stumbled over himself, feeling the concrete beneath his feet as the barrel returned to the back of his neck. Blind, Yuzuru could still feel as he was dragged into a building of some kind, down every twist and turn through the maze of a building, and he was shoved into a seat of some kind. His hands were released from the handcuffs before they were secured with two sets with one hand in each cuff and the other end was cuffed around one of the pieces of wood in the back of the chair. Each ankle was cuffed to the chair legs and he squirmed a little where he sat. The door shut and, after what felt like an age, fingers finally went to the knot in the blindfold at the back of Yuzuru's head. The black cloth slipped down and pooled in Yuzuru's lap where it fell. His eyes fluttered open, taking in the room before him.

It was all white, reminding Yuzuru almost of a room in an asylum. Daisuke only ever put hostages in a white room if he wanted them to spill blood; the white made the blood show up better. One of Daisuke's favourite things was wearing a white suit when he dealt with hostages for the same reason. There was a table in the corner with silver looking tools, none of which he recognised. Before him was an empty chair, an empty wooden chair that he assumed matched his own. Between them were his suitcase and carry on bag, his iPod and earphones, and his phone.

"Up close, I can see why the entire hall was falling and fawning over you at your master's New Years party. Still, you're very young. You don't really have the maturity to be sexy. You're like a baby pretending to be mature. It's cute but pathetic."

Yuzuru recognised the voice and he felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on him. The American accent, the bitterness, the fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the fake kindness. When the man stepped around him, Yuzuru tensed up.

Johnny Weir gave him the smile a snake gives a mouse before devouring him. His black hair was styled and his eyes were cold. He circled the chair and cupped Yuzuru's chin, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. Johnny stroked his cheek lightly with his thumb, trailing it over his lips as he tilted his head to the side to study Yuzuru's face better.

"So, little bear, what exactly was your master thinking? He knew that the swan is my thing. My symbol of grace, beauty, and poise. He knew that and he shit all over it using you as his tool." He pouted at Yuzuru in an over exaggerated way before he tapped the top of Yuzuru's head and settled in the chair opposite to him. He leaned forwards in his chair, eyes still locked onto Yuzuru's, as he kept talking. "But what is beloved Daisuke's little baby swan and little whore," he smirked as Yuzuru bristled at the word, "doing so far away from home? Seems a bit dangerous to have a baby like you so far away from Japan, all alone in big bag New York doesn't it?"

Yuzuru bit his tongue to keep his sharp comments back. Displeasure broke through Johnny's features and his eyes darkened at the silence.

"Alright. You play that game do you?" He stood and knelt down to open Yuzuru's bag.

Yuzuru tried not to react as Johnny unpacked the handguns and bullets in his carry on bag, laying them out on the floor. He then felt along the seam of the case and cut it open, spilling out the dozens and dozens of small plastic bags filled with white powder. He tossed down Yuzuru's fake documents next to the weapons and bags before he shoved the empty carry-on case away to clear space for the main case. Johnny unzipped that one too and opened it up, raising an eyebrow at Yuzuru's clothes that he'd packed neatly in there. He moved them out, keeping them in neat piles, until the case was empty. He felt along the edges and smirked to himself when he felt the bump in the lining. He worked his knife in and cut the lining away, spilling out yet more packages. He chuckled to himself as he repacked Yuzuru's two bags without their weapons or the plastic bags and picked up Yuzuru's iPod.

"What's the passcode?"

Johnny was met with a stony silence from Yuzuru and he just rolled his eyes.

"If I think you have any information on here, I can have someone get into it. Or I can get rid of it permanently."

Yuzuru still remained silent and Johnny's temper got the better of him. He threw down the iPod and stamped on it before he threw it repeatedly against the wall until it was broken and almost unrecognisable. The engraving on the back from his sister, his _sister,_ had been utterly destroyed and it took all of Yuzuru's will power to hold those emotions back. Johnny then picked up his phone, the phone that Daisuke had given to him, and he turned it over in his fingers.

"You've seen I won't hesitate to destroy something of yours, so tell me how to get into your phone."

The silence was the last straw for Johnny and he set the phone down in the plastic tray on the table, next to the silver instruments. He put in the now shattered iPod too in the tray before he went to the door and handed it to someone. Johnny looked back and gave Yuzuru a sugary sweet smile that made the younger's skin crawl.

"My dear little bear, I'll be back to play with you soon I promise. But I need to get changed before we do. I won't be a moment. For now, I need you to get into something more appropriate and to get those knives off your person. See you in a minute my little bear."

Johnny left and was replaced by four guys, all much larger than Yuzuru. The door slammed and he shrank back in his chair, tugging against the handcuffs.

* * *

In Nagoya station, Patrick worked his way through the crowd to the information boards. He'd been milling around the station, doing his best to blend in and be unnoticed. So far he hadn't caught sight of Takahiko again, but he hadn't caught sight of Yuna or Javier either. They were meant to be meeting there, right under the information signs, but where were they? Were they caught up? Were they stuck? Were they kidnapped? Were they--

"Don't space out," a familiar and feminine voice whispered to him, "or I could have killed you just now. You should be glad that we're on the same side."

"You're late."

"Javier is later."

Patrick half smiled and they leaned back to back as they observed the rest of the station. There, slipping through the crowd like a professional at ease, both of them spotted Javier. He joined the pair of them under the information sign and Yuna slipped the stick into Javier's pocket. She half smiled at the pair of them before she patted their shoulders.

"Stay safe boys," she whispered, "and, if you're ever in South Korea, come visit me in Seoul."

"Thank you," Patrick whispered, "and take care on your way back."

The three of them then split up. Javier went towards the train towards Tokyo, Yuna went towards the train towards Osaka, and Patrick parked himself at a table in the coffee shop. This was down to Javier now. Patrick settled himself down with a latte and he kept his face hidden in the book he was false reading. Instead, he fiddled with the phone he'd swiped from one of the party guests. It didn't take him long to get into the phone and he half scoffed at the background. It was a young couple that were clearly enamoured with each other; it wasn't exactly the best background for the party guest to have since it clearly showed one of their pressure points. Patrick scrolled through the phone half out of boredom as he tried to find anything of value. Blah blah texts about sister's wedding. Blah blah texts about picking up things for the baby. Blah blah note about a dentist appointment. He scrolled through the gallery to try and find anything of value but it was all photos of his wife and baby, flowers, a fluffy dog: nothing useful to Patrick. He was ready to give up when he paused and opened up the notes app.

Bingo.

There were dozens and dozens of notes saved on his phone. Patrick filtered through them and, as he did, his eyebrows raised more and more. Locations for a drugs importation. Times for a weapons deal. Locations of people trades. Patrick wrinkled his nose as he scrolled through more and more of the deals, getting more absorbed into it. This was gold, pure gold.

Something jumped onto the back of Patrick's chair and he cursed himself for once again getting distracted. Patrick all but fell off the chair as he wrestled with Takahiko. The other had all but latched himself onto Patrick's back and was trying to reach for the phone. Patrick wrestled with him and had time to shove it into his inside pocket before he kicked Takahiko off him. The other stumbled and Patrick got to his feet before he took off through the station.

The chase was on. Takahiko had no worries about hitting someone as bullets started to come down on Patrick from his handgun. People started to scream and parted for the pair of them as Patrick tried to get him off his tail and Takahiko tried to catch him to bring him to Daisuke. Patrick ran up the wrong escalator as Takahiko aimed at him and caught Patrick's side with a bullet. The adrenaline helped Patrick to block out the pain after the initial sharp shock and he scrambled up onto the next floor before he sprinted out onto the streets of Nagoya. Takahiko still raced after him and Patrick took a chance. He dived out into the street just in front of a car, hoping that Takahito wouldn't take the chance.

He did. Takahiko rolled over the front of the rapidly breaking car and he chased after Patrick down the street. Pedestrians parted for the pair of them, particularly when they observed that one of them was visibly armed, and Patrick continued to dodge the bullets aimed at him.

_I need to lose him_

Thinking fast, Patrick ducked into an office building and started sprinting up the stairs. Takahiko didn't see him go in and ran straight past the entrance. From the stairwell near the fifth floor, Patrick watched him and sighed before the adrenaline started to wear off and the bleeding wound on his side made itself better known. Stumbling down the stairs, the receptionist screamed when she saw Patrick's messed up suit with blood oozing from the side of it.

"Hi," he said somewhat politely, "do you have a first aid kit?"

* * *

Gliding through the airport, Javier had boarded his flight and was settled down, prepared for the long, non stop flight from Tokyo to Toronto. Given a seat in first class, Javier had a beautiful view from the window of Japan and her skyline. Despite everything inside of him telling him to not love Japan and to not love anything to do with her or Daisuke's mafia, he couldn't help it. She blended tradition and modernity in a way not many other countries could. Outside of his mafia work, Javier had loved his stay in the country.

_And Yuzuru_

Javier's heart fluttered when he thought of that teenager that he'd met outside at the New Year party, afraid and alone, shivering and shamed, vulnerable and exploited. Something inside of him yearned to protect Yuzuru, yearned to get to know him, yearned to be close to him.

"Stop kidding yourself," Javier chided quietly, "you're not allowed to love him."

* * *

Blindfolded and chained to the chair again, now without his eight knives strapped to him but instead laid out on the floor in front of his chair along with the other items that Johnny had confiscated from him, Yuzuru squirmed and tugged against the handcuffs in vain. Johnny paced around him slowly with a smirk fixed on his face. He'd changed from a traditional black suit into a sharp white flawless one. He'd slipped on several rings and other pieces of jewellery to add to his image of a flawless and golden angel. He stroked the side of Yuzuru's face with the back of his fingers before he slapped him hard.

"Tell me what Daisuke is planning."

Yuzuru shook his head, face turned away from Johnny's right hand. Scoffing, he slapped Yuzuru sharply with his left hand instead. He admired the two hand prints that he had left on his cheeks before he punched Yuzuru in the nose. The crunch was satisfying and seeing the blood drip down Yuzuru's chin and neck onto his shirt brought a smug feeling up inside of Johnny.

"I said tell me what Daisuke is planning."

Yuzuru's silence made Johnny get more and more irritated. Digging his blood stained fingers into Yuzuru's hair, he pulled him up as much as the handcuffs allowed. Yuzuru let out a small noise of pain and Johnny all but threw him back down into the chair.

"Tell me little bear. Tell me. Now."

"No."

Johnny rolled his eyes dramatically and went over to the table of instruments. Humming to himself like he was trying to decide between two types of cereal at the supermarket, Johnny picked one of them up and knelt down in front of Yuzuru.

"You could have made this much easier for yourself, my little bear," Johnny's tone was like he was lightly telling off a puppy who had just done something that they weren't meant to do, "but instead you want to ruin your beautiful hands and fingers. Are you sure about this my little bear? You can end it just by telling me anything about Daisuke."

"I won't."

"Just because he took your virginity doesn't mean that you owe him anything," Johnny sighed before he knelt behind Yuzuru's chair and took one of his delicate little fingers in his hands. Yuzuru flinched away but Johnny tightened his grip until it was almost painful. Attaching the silver tool, he dug it around the nail of Yuzuru's little finger.

Yuzuru let out a scream as his nail was ripped from the nail bed. He might have chewed them nearly bloody on the flight but the pain of it being ripped out was intense. He took several deep breaths before he could even begin to register that Johnny was still talking to him. The older stroked Yuzuru's hair in a faux comforting move.

"I'm so sorry my little bear," Yuzuru could almost hear the giggle in his voice, "but I told you what to do to end it. You can end it at any time. Just say the word."

Yuzuru feverishly shook his head and Johnny rolled his eyes.

"Suit yourself."

He knelt back down and took Yuzuru's other hand. The teen wrinkled his nose, face already screwed up in preparation for the pain. Expecting it didn't make it any less painful and he still screamed when his next nail was pulled out.

It continued until Johnny had removed all of Yuzuru's nails. Yuzuru, to his credit, still hadn't cracked under the pain of it but his skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat and blood was dripping from his bloody nail beds onto the floor. Johnny dramatically sighed and unbuckled his belt so that he could remove it.

"The little bear is strong apparently. But he doesn't have claws anymore so what can he do when he’s restrained like this?" he stroked the belt buckle and fiddled with it before he paced around Yuzuru. Standing before his back, he raised the belt and brought it down in a hard strike.

Yuzuru let out a small noise of pain but he was much more used to this sort of pain. It was also half softened by his suit jacket and shirt, but the belt buckle started to cut through the material. Johnny and Yuzuru both lost count of how long it went on for, but it was more than enough time for Yuzuru's back to be exposed to the unforgiving metal of the belt. When the buckle caught his back, the blood started to run. Johnny's pure white suit and the pure white room was a mess of Yuzuru's blood. Yuzuru's throat felt raw from the screams and noises of pain that he'd been making for so long and exhaustion from the lack of food and water combined with the blood loss and pain meant that his eyes were basically falling shut. Johnny sighed and walked back over to the table where he picked up a syringe filled with something.

"Sleep well my little bear," Johnny whispered as he stuck the needle into the side of Yuzuru's neck, "sleep well."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Groaning awake with the effects of the drug still coursing through him, the chains around Yuzuru were removed and he was dragged to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, sorry it's been a while since I updated this. This chapter has some severe threats to Yuzuru and also some explicit descriptions of torture, sorry. It does get a little bit lighter nearer the end so is it all bad? I hope you're all staying safe, and thank you so much for reading this x

Groaning awake with the effects of the drug still coursing through him, the chains around Yuzuru were removed and he was dragged to his feet. His throat felt like sandpaper and he coughed, still with dried blood covering the nail beds and nose. His hands were pulled behind him and bound with a board between his arms before he was blindfolded. Johnny patted the side of his cheek, rubbing a thumb over the apple of it, before he slapped both sides of his face again while someone else held Yuzuru up.

"Morning little bear. How are you feeling? Little groggy? Limbs feel fuzzy? Sorry, that's what happens when you use this drug. Whoops! Anyway, I thought a sleep would help you feel better and be able to make a clearer decision so, tell me what Daisuke is planning."

Yuzuru coughed, throat dry, but he managed to choke out "I'm telling you nothing." Johnny's smile fell and Yuzuru's head snapped to the side as yet another slap was thrown at him.

"Oh my little bear, I really didn't want to hurt you. Sorry. If you would just tell me I wouldn't have to do this to you."

Before Yuzuru had a chance to ask what, he was forced onto the balls of his feet before he was shoved down into a squat. His thigh muscles quivered, trying to hold the position he was forced into as Johnny paced around him.

"Comfy?"

Yuzuru remained silent, head spinning and too dehydrated to really talk. Johnny tilted his head at him and sighed with his over dramatic flair that he always had.

"Tell me what Daisuke is planning."

Yuzuru shook his head, receiving a smack to the side of it. Johnny pouted at him, not that Yuzuru could see it from behind the white cloth tied around his eyes.

"Well, you can stay there thinking about whether you want to change your mind. And, until you do, you'll be in that position."

Yuzuru's thighs were already screaming from the pressure put on them by the position. Blinded by the cloth, he had no idea how long he stayed there for when they began to shake and then spasm before they gave way completely as the muscles failed him. Johnny dragged him to his feet but his legs wouldn't support him; he crumpled to a heap at his feet again. Johnny tutted in disgust before his guards dragged Yuzuru up and half carried him back to the white room with splatters of his dried blood still staining the floor. He was thrown unceremoniously onto an inclined table where his wrists were tied down above his head and his ankles were shackled, not that he had the energy to move them much. Kept blind by the cloth, he frowned in confusion when not just his eyes were covered but another cloth was put over his face. He choked on the water that was poured over it and his mind went into panic. His gag reflex kicked in as he fought for air in vain. The cloth was removed for a moment and he panted, gasping and trying to fill his burning lungs, when Johnny spoke again.

“Tell me what Daisuke is planning.”

“No,” he panted, bracing himself as the cloth was thrown back onto him and more water was poured.

“Tell me.”

He shook his head with a grimace, insides screaming for air. Johnny ran a hand through his hair that would have been soothing if it wasn’t the hand of Yuzuru’s torturer.

“Oh my little bear, you owe him nothing.”

_Yes I do_

“You might feel you owe him just because he took you in, but you don’t.”

_He saved me. He saved us._ Yuzuru wanted to scream at Johnny but he was cut off by more water choking him.

“Just tell me everything and you’ll be free from his clutches. Wouldn’t you like that, little bear? Wouldn’t you like to be away from him and his people? Wouldn’t you like to be with me instead?”

Yuzuru, as much as the restraints allowed him, flinched away from Johnny’s touch. The older clicked his tongue and sighed, stepping away from Yuzuru. The lack of both the torture and touch made Yuzuru’s stomach turn; the anticipation was almost as bad as the acts themselves. His body jerked back, slamming the back of his head against the table, when hands started to go at the buttons on his ruined shirt, suit jacket, and trousers. He braced himself for the worst, squeezing his eyes shut behind the blindfold. Featherlight touches brushed over his exposed form, taking in every detail of him that was laid bare to Johnny. The American clicked his tongue, pressing down on some of the bruises that littered Yuzuru’s skin and had only begun to fade, left there by courtesy of Daisuke’s hungry and unforgiving mouth.

“He feasts on you like a starving man and yet you’re still loyal to him?” Johnny chided, tracing the scratches from Daisuke’s nails that decorated Yuzuru’s hips and narrow waist.

“I have to be,” Yuzuru choked out through coughs and splutters. Johnny petted his hair like he was taming an irritated puppy and chuckled.

“You don’t, my little bear. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger because you’re too loyal. Do you love him?”

Yuzuru didn’t answer but the wrinkling of his nose told Johnny everything. He leaned down, pressing the cool material of his crisp white shirt against Yuzuru’s chest, flushed from embarrassment at being so exposed.

“Do you enjoy the way he treats you? Does a part of you secretly crave to be torn apart, held down by someone like him, and used for their pleasure only to be discarded when he’s bored of you? Do you love being at his mercy? Even now, under my restraints and not his, does your body ache for someone to pull you apart thread by thread, shattering you and then reshaping you to their will like he has?”

Yuzuru squirmed and wriggled, trying to get Johnny’s touch off him. The featherlight touches continued past the dip of his waist and the curve of his hips until they reached his thighs. Shame flushed over Yuzuru’s cheeks, heating them up, and Johnny laughed at his physical response.

“You see? Your mind might be begging me to stop but your body wants me, my little bear. Tell me. Do you want me to fuck you?”

Yuzuru shook his head vigorously, thrashing around against the restraints as he willed his still pained thigh muscles to obey him and close. Johnny laughed, walking his fingers up and down from Yuzuru’s knee to his naval and back again.

“You do. You’d love for me to pin you against this table, take you apart with my mouth and fingers until you’re begging me for it. Wouldn’t you?”

“Get off me.”

“I think your brain is a little fuzzy, little bear. It’s ‘get me off’, not get off me. But I won’t indulge you. You can stay there and, when you’re ready to tell me what your precious master Daisuke is planning, then maybe I’ll let you finish.”

Leaving the teenager strapped to the table, Johnny turned and walked out of the room with a smirk on his face and a desperate need to get to the shower with the images of Yuzuru still fresh in his mind.

* * *

Javier had made it to his plane to Toronto with ease. So much ease, in fact, that he was getting a little uncomfortable. Nothing ever worked this well, never. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he took his seat in economy on the plane, sitting in the aisle seat next to a pair of elderly Japanese ladies who offered him a boiled sweet to suck on during take-off to help his ears pop. The chattered away to each other in Japanese and Javier couldn’t have minded less; he was perfectly content to sit back in his seat and listen to his playlist as he read through his book. The memory stick felt much lighter in his pocket than it had before, and it hadn’t set off the metal detector in security. He soon lost himself in the music and the words, jumping from paragraph to paragraph as he explored the far-off lands with the hero. Instead of being on a plane to Toronto from Osaka with not enough leg room and still many hours to go, carrying whatever files Yuna had managed to steal from Daisuke on a memory stick in his pocket, Javier was fighting off dragons and casting magic spells as he fought to get the treasure. The Japanese ladies only disturbed him a couple of times to go to the bathroom, and he only disturbed them when they were brought food and drinks. In short, the flight was smooth and the easiest part of the mission with very little turbulence.

_I wonder what happened to Yuzuru_ Javier’s traitorous mind supplied and he sat upright, nearly smacking his head on the overhead panel. He’d only seen him for a few hours, and yet he’d already become so ingrained in Javier’s mind. He couldn’t help it; his thoughts, no matter how hard he fought, drifted back to that cool night in mid-winter when he’d seen the teenager paraded around like a peacock. His vulnerability and youth had shocked Javier to the core and, remembering him, he pushed himself out of his seat and scrambled to get to one of the bathrooms on the plane, emptying the contents of his stomach.

_Don’t think about him_

_Don’t think about him_

_Don’t think about him_

_But is he alright?_

The Japanese ladies gave him looks of concern and words of what he assumed were comfort. He buckled himself back in and flopped against the seat, feeling like he was being compressed from all sides.

“Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking,” the voice crackled through over the intercom, “I regret to inform you that our flight is being redirected to Pennsylvania. Connecting flights to Toronto will be arranged for you all. We apologise for any problems caused by this. There is no reason to panic. There is nothing wrong with the aircraft. We have just been redirected.

_Ah,_ Javier laughed humourlessly to himself, _perfect. I thought everything was going too well._

The plane landed without a hitch and soon passengers were disembarking into Philadelphia International airport. Javier let the ladies go before him; he was in no rush, before he disembarked. His passport was scrutinised by the man sitting at passport control for a while before it was all but thrown back into his hands and he was waved off with a gruff ‘have a nice connecting flight’ from him. Javier fiddled with his phone while he waited to collect his bag before he chewed on his lip hard.

_J: Flight redirected_

_Y: Where are you?_

_J: Philadelphia International_

_J: There’s a connecting flight to T I could get_

_Y: Stay there in a hotel for a while_

_Y: If someone was following you, they’d expect you to go straight back to T_

_J: Got it_

After collecting his bag, Javier checked into one of the hotels next to airport. Tucking the memory stick into the lining of his underwear, in a concealed pocket that he’d sewn before the start of the task, Javier then took a bus into the main city to have a look around. Having landed early in the morning in America, Javier took his time and enjoyed being a tourist, albeit a slightly overdressed one. He snapped a photo in front of the Liberty Bell, ran up the Rocky Steps in his suit (even though it earned him some pretty weird looks), and then took a walk past Independent Hall. Part of him yearned to go in but, without any American dollars on hand, he instead stuck to just walking through the city, enjoying the cool winter breeze as it bit at his exposed cheeks.

“Jeremy!” Javier had to grab a firm hold of himself to stop him slapping the man who grabbed hold of his shoulders abruptly. “Did you seriously get lost again? Johnny was getting worried about you! He and Evan want you to help take care of the new guy. Just watch him to make sure he doesn’t pass out. Come on!”

Before Javier could protest, he was all but shoved into the front seat of a sleek black ford. He strapped himself in as the other sped through the city streets, taking them down to a building tucked away in the suburbs. The pair climbed out and, after locking the car, Javier was led into the warehouse. Built to look like a standard storage place, they took the lift down several floors until they came out in a pristine white hallway. The other guy gestured with his thumb to one of the rooms after he typed a code into the panel on the wall.

“You’re just to sit in there until Johnny comes back to play with him, ‘kay? That’s all. No touching or he’ll castrate you; I think he wants him first.”

“Got it,” Javier put on a fake American accent which seemed to satisfy the other. He hadn’t got a damn clue who Jeremy was, but he just slipped into the room and closed the door behind him.

He had to swallow down his scream. There, tied to a table with a blindfold covering his eyes, was unmistakably the very person who had been plaguing his mind for weeks. A blush rose on Javier’s cheeks when he took in the state of the other’s undress, but his stomach turned at the sight of the bruises and scratches that littered his young body. The splatters of dried blood on the walls and floor told Javier all he needed to know, and he grabbed what he hoped was the key to the shackles on Yuzuru’s ankles off the table. The youngster flinched at the touch to his ankles and Javier had to bite the inside of his cheek hard as he pinned the other down so that he could hold him still enough to unlock them. The noise of them clattering to the ground was music to Javier’s ears and he untied Yuzuru’s wrists too before he helped him to sit up. Yuzuru’s cases were still in the room, a little messed up and with the lining cut up, but they were there. Javier passed him a new set of clothes to put on, which Yuzuru too gratefully in silence. An iPod with a shattered screen and a black Samsung sat together in a plastic tray, and Javier swiped them into Yuzuru’s smaller case before he zipped both up.

“Come on. We’ve got to get you out of here.” He grimaced, seeing the stain from where Yuzuru’s back had been against the table, “You’ve got to listen to me, okay? Stick with me and do everything I tell you to do.”

Yuzuru nodded and his mouth fell open in silent understanding. Javier retied the cloth around Yuzuru’s eyes and the younger had no choice but to trust him as he felt the cool barrel of a handgun press against the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Javier whispered, “but I have to keep up appearances.”

Yuzuru just nodded and, despite his still painful thigh muscles, he allowed the other to pull him around and drag him out of the room like a doll.

“Fake struggle,” Javier whispered to him, “it’ll make it more realistic.”

Yuzuru shook his shoulders, trying to get himself out of Javier’s grip to put up appearances. The other held him by the back of his suit.

“Oi! Jeremy! What are you doing with him?”

“Johnny sent word. Wants him prepared in his quarters. His _private_ room. Wants him relocated there with his things so that Johnny can play with him whenever he wants.”

Yuzuru bristled at the thought and Javier tightened his grip on him. “Oh, don’t like that idea, do you? Little Japanese whore, I bet you really do. Can’t wait for Johnny to pull you apart, can you?”

The lines between Yuzuru’s acting and his real responses were blurred. His natural reaction to the words, words that people like Daisuke had poured into him when he was pounding into him, caused such a strong reaction for him. Javier dragged him through the corridors down to the lift. Typing in the code that he’d seen the other guy use on the door, Javier let out the smallest sigh of relief when the doors slid open. They stepped in and Javier gave an extra tug to the back of Yuzuru’s shirt, holding the gun firmer against his nape, before he smiled at the men in the corridor just before the doors shut. Neither of them dared to breathe as the lift sped upward, and Javier only dared to remove Yuzuru’s blindfold when they had run a block away. Pausing on a corner street, Javier kept one arm around Yuzuru to steady him as he called for an uber. With his free hand still on his gun, Javier kept his guard up until they climbed into the uber together back towards Javier’s hotel.

Yuzuru pressed himself against the furthest corner of the seat away from Javier and the other didn’t try to push him. His cases had been loaded up into the boot of the car and they, along with the driver, sat in silence together. Javier gave him an extra tip on the app when they got out, and he helped Yuzuru, still in silence, carry his bags up to his room.

“You okay?” Javier asked finally, leaning against the door.

“I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry about what I said back there,” Javier started digging around in his own case before he took out a travel first aid kit. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not… You know. I just thought—”

“Thank you for helping me,” Yuzuru bowed his head to him and Javier blinked in shock.

“It’s… It’s fine?”

“Do you want something in exchange? I can offer you a handjob, or a blowjob, or—”

“Sit down,” Javier’s voice was tight, “and take off your jacket and shirt. Please. I want to check that you’re not injured.”

“I can assure you sir, I’m—”

“Just call me Javi. And you don’t have to give yourself to me because I helped you.”

Javier folded up the jacket and shirt that Yuzuru passed to him, grimacing at his back. It was a mess of half crusted over cuts and dried blood along with the white ghosts of scars and scratches. Swallowing, Javier got a damp cloth to them and started to soak off some of the dried blood. Next, he tenderly took an alcohol wipe to Yuzuru’s back and grimaced at every little noise Yuzuru made when it made some of the reopened wounds sting.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Cursing himself for the lack of materials, Javier then applied dressings to some of the worst ones on Yuzuru’s back and left the smaller ones to heal in the open air. Satisfied with his work, Javier gestured to the room.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to get us some food, okay?”

Yuzuru nodded and, by the time Javier had got back, he’d changed out of the suit and into soft pair of warm fluffy pyjamas. He and Javier ate the pizza together and put on an American show to try and lighten the mood between them.

“You can sleep in the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

Yuzuru choked and looked at Javier with wide eyes. “But it’s your room. I’ll take the floor—”

“Not with your back in that state you won’t.”

“We can share?”

Javier studied him, chewing on the pizza as he scrutinised him. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with that? And you don’t have to say you are. You can be honest with me.”

Yuzuru shrugged. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I’ve shared the bed with random men before. Out of all of them, you seem the kindest and least likely to try and sleep with me.”

“I prefer to wine them and dine them first,” Javier joked, and Yuzuru actually laughed a little at that. “What can I say? I’m a romantic.”

“How sweet,” Yuzuru chuckled to himself, “but you haven’t given me any wine yet.”

Javier choked this time and Yuzuru burst out laughing. “Kidding! Kidding! It was a joke!” His laughter died down to a smile soon tinged with sadness. “I mean it though. Thank you Javi. Thank you for saving me.”

“To be honest, I didn’t intend to. It was mostly luck I ended up there. But I’m glad that I could help you out.”

Yuzuru bowed his head again before he slipped off to the bathroom to clean his teeth. Javier did the same and, when he returned, Yuzuru was already curled up on one side of the bed, facing the wall. Javier slipped in on the other side, maintaining the distance between them, but he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at Yuzuru’s posture. He was curled in on himself, tucking his head down like he was protecting himself from something. Javier wanted desperately to reach out to him, place a hand on his shoulder, pull him into a hug, comfort him, protect him, and hide him away from the world. The way he was shown off, paraded around in the figure hugging and dipped costume, handled by Daisuke and presented to his guests explained most of it to Javier. He shook his head, trying to dispel the painful thoughts, before he reached over and switched off the light beside the bed.

“Goodnight Yuzuru.”

A very quiet voice, muffled by clothing and the covers, piped up.

“Goodnight Javi.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javier covered Yuzuru's nail beds with plasters and checked his back before they parted ways, with Javier flying back to Toronto and Yuzuru to Tokyo. After checking in their bags, Javier caught Yuzuru's sleeve before he disappeared into the sea of people in the airport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, welcome back to this story. PLEASE be aware that the warnings really do matter in this chapter! I mean it! Daisuke is a meanie here! This chapter is a lot mean to Yuzuru so sorryyyy! I hope you all like (?) it and I hope you're staying safe xx

Javier covered Yuzuru's nail beds with plasters and checked his back before they parted ways, with Javier flying back to Toronto and Yuzuru to Tokyo. After checking in their bags, Javier caught Yuzuru's sleeve before he disappeared into the sea of people in the airport.

"Will you be alright?" Javier asked, looking at him with firm eyes filled with concern. Yuzuru nodded, lowering his gaze and giving him a small smile laced with pain and regret.

"Nothing I can't handle. I'll be alright, I promise."

Javier dug around and handed Yuzuru a slip of paper before he carefully patted his shoulder. "Have a safe flight to Tokyo."

"You too. Have a safe flight to Toronto."

Javier nodded at the slip of paper. "If you need me, you can get hold of me," he promised before he turned, disappearing into the crowd of people running through the airport to get to their flights.

Yuzuru stared at his retreating back and the paper felt almost heavy in his hands. He tucked it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket before he too turned and headed towards a different gate to go and board his own flight, booked at the last minute. His stomach churned, fear rising up in it as he settled into his seat and prepared both for the flight and to see Daisuke again.

* * *

Yuzuru didn't have to look at the driver to see his expression when he landed down in Tokyo. Exhausted, in pain, and with his nerves having made him throw up several times on the journey back, he followed behind the driver holding the sign with his fake name on it. He climbed into the back of the black Lexus and picked invisible threads off the suit jacket and trousers. It obviously wasn't the same suit that Daisuke had gifted him with. This one was a dark blue whereas the one Daisuke had given him was black and sharp with a crisper shirt than this one; Yuzuru's current shirt had little wrinkles in it from where it had been folded in his suitcases and unpacked by Johnny. He fiddled with the plasters on his fingertips, chewing the inside of his cheek since he didn't have the option to chew his nails anymore. All too soon for Yuzuru's liking, they pulled into the concealed car park underneath the complex. Yuzuru was almost shaking as he forced his limbs to cooperate, climbing out of the car as his bags were removed for him and were taken to his home.

His _empty_ home. Keiji wasn't going to be there, of course. Yuzuru couldn't stop fiddling with his hands, wringing them and playing with the edges of the plasters around his fingers, as he was led up to the all too familiar door of the office.

"Yuzuru," Daisuke didn't even grant him a fake smile this time. Yuzuru's stomach churned and he followed him into the room, head lowered in submission as he prepared for what was to come. "You're home early."

Daisuke slipped into his seat and poured himself a glass of scotch. High vintage and expensive, just like how Daisuke liked it. He leaned back, putting his feet up on the desk, before he gestured for Yuzuru to take the seat opposite to him.

"Sit."

Yuzuru obeyed, sitting forward on the chair. Daisuke scanned his form, taking in the light tremble that he was trying desperately to control, the plasters on his fingertips, and his altered posture.

"So what happened?"

"They hijacked my plane," Yuzuru's voice was quiet but clear, like the crunching of frost underfoot on a winter morning, "Johnny hijacked my plane."

"And then what happened?"

Yuzuru raised his head, meeting Daisuke's eyes as the other downed his glass and refilled it.

"Show me what happened."

Yuzuru's fingers hissed at him, pain flaring from his fingertips as he struggled against the buttons of his suit jacket. Daisuke watched with a little smirk playing at his lips, enjoying the show as Yuzuru removed his suit jacket and then his shirt before he turned around and showed his back to Daisuke. The older stood, setting down his glass before he circled the desk to stand behind Yuzuru. Deceptively gentle hands removed the bandages and Yuzuru squeezed his eyes shut. Daisuke's light fingertips traced the cuts that were sure to remain on Yuzuru as thick, obvious scars, and he sighed, running his hand back up Yuzuru's back to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck.

"My poor little Yuzuru," his voice held a fake sweetness and sugar in a similar way to Johnny's, "someone touched my toy. You know how angry that makes me, don't you?"

Yuzuru nodded, biting the inside of his lip as he kept his gaze fixed on the floor beside his feet. Daisuke chuckled to himself and, with his free hand, he cupped Yuzuru's cheek and raised his head so that they were looking into each other's eyes.

"The others will bring Johnny here for me. And then, oh yes Yuzuru, then I will enjoy making him suffer for damaging you like this. And you can have a go at him too, bring him down a peg or two and make him suffer like he made you suffer."

Daisuke traced Yuzuru's bottom lip with his thumb, encouraging the other to open his mouth and wet the tip with little flicks of his tongue.

"Still." His tone turned and he all but threw Yuzuru away from him, making him stumble backwards until he tripped over the chair and ended up on the floor before Daisuke. "This does also mean that you failed to do what I asked of you. I don't like failure. It's not tolerated here, and that means you have to be punished."

He grabbed hold of Yuzuru's arm and pulled him to his feet with none of the tenderness or gentleness that he'd had before. Yuzuru stumbled after him as he was pulled from the office half dressed. Everyone he passed in the hallway averted their gaze; they knew him, knew what Daisuke did with him, and knew not to interfere.

Daisuke flung open the doors to his bedroom, a room Yuzuru knew all too well, and tossed Yuzuru in front of him. His hands went for the buttons on his shirt after he'd tossed his suit jacket somewhere across the room and he watched the teen before him try to pick himself up out of the crumpled heap he'd fallen into.

"Daisuke, please--" Yuzuru tried but the boss' glare hardened on him.

"What did you call me? And why are you still wearing clothes? On the bed, hands and knees, no clothes."

"Tomorrow, please," Yuzuru begged and Daisuke's glare darkened, "please, I'm begging you--"

"And it's a beautiful sight, but I want you on the bed for me to fuck, not on your knees to give a blowjob. Now, Yuzuru Hanyu. I will not ask you again."

With trembling fingers, Yuzuru undid the belt of his suit trousers and swallowed down the lump in his throat as his fingers slipped. When he was fully nude, with Daisuke's gaze heavy on him, he did as he was told and climbed up onto the bed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Daisuke circled the bed and smiled to himself before he cupped Yuzuru's cheek.

"You're so beautiful like this," he whispered before he left Yuzuru waiting while he went to get the things he would add to their sex to punish Yuzuru.

* * *

After being thoroughly used by Daisuke combined with the exhaustion from his ordeal, Yuzuru could barely walk as he was dropped off at his apartment. His fingers slipped on the keys and he stepped in, closing the door behind him and leaning against it as he tried to catch his breath.

"Keiji?" he whispered.

No one answered him. Only silence and darkness met him. Yuzuru curled up in on himself, grimacing at the sticky feeling between his legs, as he buried his face in his arms. His cases were sitting in the hallway of their little apartment, mocking him. He'd been punished extra for losing them weapons and other materials that were worth more than him, according to Daisuke. Pulling himself together and gathering all his resolve, Yuzuru pushed them into his room and shut the door. He then stepped into their bathroom and tore off the suit before he jumped into the shower, turning it as hot as he could stand and then some, filling the bathroom with steam and turning his skin red as he scrubbed at every inch that he could without upsetting and opening the scabs forming on his back. He scrubbed at the inside of his thighs that were shiny with lube still and he grimaced as he pressed his fingers inside of himself, trying to get out all the left essence that Daisuke spilt into him as part of the punishment. Even after scrubbing at himself, and even though he'd been through it before, he didn't feel clean. He still felt dirty and used as he stood under the shower with steam filling the room. If Keiji was there, he would have pulled Yuzuru out, wrapped him up in a towel, tried to make him laugh, feed him some dinner or dessert or hot chocolate, and would have helped him to sleep if he needed someone to help chase his nightmares away. Yuzuru instead had to drag himself out of the shower and wrapped himself up in a fluffy towel. He dried himself off, leaving his hair still damp. He went to his room when he stopped, still wrapped up in the towel. He slipped into Keiji's room and stole one of his shirts as well as a pair of his shorts before he slipped under the covers of Keiji's bed, cuddling his pillow.

Everything was coated in Keiji's warm scent. Comforting and earthy, Yuzuru let himself drown in the warm and spicy scents of cinnamon and nutmeg that were so inherently Keiji. Cuddling the pillow close to him, Yuzuru could almost imagine that Keiji was there with him, hugging him close and providing his warming and protective support. When he opened his eyes up again, though, he realised once again just how empty the apartment was and how alone he was. With nothing to distract his thoughts other than Keiji's smell, Yuzuru suppressed a shudder that ran down his back when his thoughts turned to Daisuke.

_A little whore_

_Slut_

_Nothing but a hole_

_My personal plaything_

_No matter what, you'll come crawling back_

_Incompetent_

_Got to punish you for this_

_Bet your sister would be able to please me better_

He buried his face further in the pillow as the words bounced around in his head, diffusing their poison through his mind. He stifled his sobs until finally, after hours of wrapping himself up in Keii's scent, he fell into an uneasy and interrupted sleep.

* * *

It was weeks, weeks of Yuzuru stealing Keiji's things to sleep in and cuddling his pillows, weeks of Daisuke bending Yuzuru over every surface he could find without caring who saw, weeks of scrubbing himself raw, weeks of his nails and back healing painfully, weeks later when Mao, Nobu, and Keiji returned with Johnny Weir in tow. Daisuke had just finished choking Yuzuru with his cock under his desk when they came in, and he'd barely had time to button up his trousers as he greeted them with his snakelike smile. Yuzuru coughed and spluttered, still kneeling under the desk, as Mao shoved Johnny towards Daisuke. The American's wrists were bound behind his back and he looked dishevelled, but he somehow maintained his arrogance.

"Daisuke! So nice to see you again!" His sugary tone made Daisuke's eyes narrow. "Did you like the decoration I added to your party centrepiece?"

Daisuke snarled at him, dragging Yuzuru out from under the desk and to his feet so that they could both face Johnny head on. Daisuke raised Yuzuru's chin, making him look straight into Johnny's eyes. Deep brown eyes full of vulnerability met green eyes that, despite his predicament, still held their arrogance and haughtiness. Johnny couldn't help but smirk at the little trail of cum that ran down from the corner of Yuzuru's lips, and he chuckled to himself.

"Oh my little bear, back in your place I see: back on your knees for Dai-su-ke. How pathetic."

"Enough," Daisuke waved a hand and a couple of his guards pulled Johnny away to the basement and the cells down there, "enough. I'll deal with you later, Weir. Or Yuzuru will."

With that, Daisuke turned and left, pulling Yuzuru with him. The youngster barely caught Johnny's eyes as they passed in the hallway, but Johnny's eyes burned into him with their piercing, judgemental gaze.

_"Do you enjoy the way he treats you?"_ Johnny's words from before poured into Yuzuru silently, through the stare alone, _"Does a part of you secretly crave to be torn apart, held down by someone like him, and used for their pleasure only to be discarded when he's bored of you?"_ And Yuzuru hadn't resisted, not really. Like a good little whore, he'd knelt and been compliant for Daisuke, just how he wanted him to be. He'd begged him not to, but wasn't that just part of the game for Daisuke? _"Do you love being at his mercy? Does your body ache for someone to pull you apart thread by thread, shattering you and then reshaping you to their will like he has?"_

Yuzuru tore his gaze away from Johnny's as Daisuke's strong grip around his wrist pulled him along the corridor.

"What did I tell you, my little bear?" Johnny called out to him, turning Yuzuru's blood to ice in his veins, "You owe him nothing."

Daisuke stopped, grip on Yuzuru's wrist tightening to the point of pain for the younger. "You know nothing, Weir."

"Oh?"

Daisuke looked back over his shoulder with a glare. "You don't know everything I've done for Yuzuru."

"Was it really worth his virginity though?" Johnny's words were as poisonous as Daisuke's to Yuzuru.

"He chose to give it to me." Daisuke smirked. "Sad you didn't get to try him first? I can promise you he's perfect. Falls apart under you just like a good little slut, don't you Yuzuru?" The youngster lowered his gaze from the pair of them to his feet. "If you weren't so far up your own backside, maybe you could have tasted him."

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Who's to say I didn't?"

Daisuke's gaze hardened to anger and his nails dug into the soft flesh of Yuzuru's wrist. "Get him out of my sight," he hissed before he dragged Yuzuru down the corridor to his office again.

* * *

Keiji was unpacking his things when Yuzuru stumbled into their apartment, face as numb, hollow, and empty as it always was after Daisuke used him or let someone else use him. He poked his head out and Yuzuru's eyes met his before he slipped into the shower, leaving a trail of clothes behind him. Keiji couldn't help but smile at the shirts that had been moved around in his drawers from where Yuzuru had washed them and put them back, ironed and folded but in the wrong places. He changed into a pair of pyjamas and set his weapons in the drawers around the room. He sighed, ruffling up the back of his damp hair as he settled under the covers, only to see Yuzuru lingering in the doorway.

"You alright Yuzu?" Keiji asked, tilting his head at him.

Yuzuru dropped his towel and Keiji's jaw fell too, blush rising in his cheeks involuntarily. It was hard for Keiji, as a bisexual man, to deny that Yuzuru had a beautiful body. His curves were soft and smooth, dipping at his tiny waist. He had dark eyes that, when he flipped the switch, they could turn from innocent to sultry. He was tempting, but Keiji was more confused than aroused.

"Yuzu, what?"

"Shh," Yuzuru climbed up the bed, pulling the covers down and away from Keiji. He bit his lip and smiled before the tip of his tongue emerged to wet them. "I'll make you feel good."

"Yuzu, what--"

Yuzuru pressed one finger to Keiji's lips to shut him up before he walked his fingers down Keiji's chest. He tugged at the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, ignoring Keiji's little protests. He then lowered, tracing the lines of Keiji's abs with his tongue, before he reached the hem of Keiji's boxers.

"Yuzuru--" Keiji tried again but Yuzuru pulled them down before he had a chance to properly stop him. Keiji blushed but brought himself back to his sense and shoved Yuzuru off him. "Yuzuru, stop!"

Yuzuru blinked up at him, dark eyes pleading to Keiji. The other shook his head and clothed himself again.

"You don't want this," Keiji shook his head and chewed his lip, "you don't. You don't want me and you don't want sex now."

"I need you," Yuzuru held the towel up but made no move to wrap it around himself. "Keiji please. I need you! I need your help. Please."

"I can't," Keiji shook his head and turned away from Yuzuru. "You just, I mean, I know you're not feeling great because of Daisuke, but this isn't how to feel better."

"I'd rather feel you inside of me than Daisuke," Yuzuru whispered as the vulnerability crept back into his voice. "Keiji, I need to get rid of the feeling of him. Please, I--"

"Yuzuru, look at me," Keiji cupped his cheeks and Yuzuru met his eyes. "You don't want this. And no way am I having sex with you if you don't really want this. You can tell me you want it as much as you like but I can't believe that. Not after what you've just said."

Yuzuru chewed the inside of his cheek and Keiji patted his shoulder with a light smile to try and diffuse the tension between them. "Come on. You get into some pyjamas and I'll make you some hot chocolate. Then we can cuddle in my bed, alright?"

Yuzuru nodded, giving Keiji a light hug before he disappeared to his room. Keiji shook his head, clearing it, as he headed to the little kitchen of their box apartment and started making two mugs of hot chocolate. Yes, he was a bisexual man and Yuzuru was a very attractive person, but they were so close. They'd been friends as long as he could remember, and he couldn't imagine them being anything other than friends. His heart ached whenever he saw Yuzuru stumble back into their home with crumpled clothes and often stains from Daisuke covering them and his cheeks, but asking him to help him forget by effectively doing the same thing wasn't right, and Keiji just couldn't do it. With shaking hands, he carried their mugs into his room to find Yuzuru curled up on the free side.

"Here," Keiji sat next to him and let Yuzuru lean on his shoulder, "what happened?"

"I got caught by Johnny," Yuzuru mumbled into the mug. "Then I came back here. Daisuke got pissed off with me but looks like you didn't even need me."

"We always need you," Keiji whispered, stroking his shoulder as he held Yuzuru close to him. "I'm sorry Daisuke did that to you again."

Yuzuru shrugged. "It's bad I'm getting used to it now, isn't it?"

Keiji nodded and they finished their drinks together in bed. After cleaning their teeth again, Keiji let Yuzuru share his bed and they fell asleep with the friends cradling each other protectively, as if that could protect them from anything physical as well as their inner demons.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite what he had said, Daisuke didn't make Yuzuru deal with Johnny. He didn't send for him or demand that he or Keiji should come to the building, and so they took advantage of the break. They woke up from where they had been cuddled up together, and, after a lazy late breakfast, they took a walk into Tokyo together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm so sorry that there wasn't a chapter last week. Sorry!!! But, there is one now, and it's a lot mean so sorry in advance. I hope you're all staying safe and I hope you enjoy (?) this chapter xxx

Despite what he had said, Daisuke didn't make Yuzuru deal with Johnny. He didn't send for him or demand that he or Keiji should come to the building, and so they took advantage of the break. They woke up from where they had been cuddled up together, and, after a lazy late breakfast, they took a walk into Tokyo together.

"It's been so long," Keiji mused as Yuzuru paid for a new oversized hoodie and fluffy pyjamas, "since we last got time to do this. Since we got a day just for us."

Yuzuru nodded, swinging the bag around in his free hand as Keiji took hold of the other one. In public, their hands were hidden by the sleeves of their coats as they weaved through the busy streets of the city, ducking in and out of shops as they pleased. They weren't exactly paid by Daisuke; it was more like they were children who had been given an allowance. The pair didn't have to pay rent; their apartment had been bought for them by the organisation, and all they really bought for themselves was food. Daisuke showered Yuzuru with lavish gifts so they both had a decent amount of money saved up. Keiji teased Yuzuru when he bought a new set of earphones but the pair then settled in a cafe tucked away. They settled at a table in the corner and Yuzuru held his cup of green tea in his hands, trying to pull the warmth from it closer to him. His slender fingers held the porcelain and he tapped at his chin while his mind was miles away. Keiji smiled and lightly kicked him under the table.

"What was that for?"

"You're daydreaming," Keiji teased. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," Yuzuru answered much too quickly and Keiji leaned back in his seat.

"Sure? You can talk to me about anything, you know."

"It's fine. It's nothing."

Keiji fixed him with a particular look that Yuzuru knew only too well before he leaned across the table and rested his head in his hands.

"You know, how on earth did you escape out of Johnny's clutches, losing only your weapons and those deliveries for Daisuke?"

Yuzuru set down the cup and looked into it instead of looking up at Keiji. He chewed on his lip before he started writing on one of the napkins.

_You've got to take this to the grave_

Keiji raised an eyebrow at the note that had been slipped to him across the table but he took the pen and wrote underneath.

_I swear. I won't tell a soul and we can burn this when we're done._

Yuzuru nodded but his shoulders were still burdened by a heavy weight that Keiji couldn't understand. His posture was full of tension as he wrote his note and slipped it across the table.

_I had help_

Keiji's eyebrows flew to his hairline but he disguised it by busying himself with his tea. He turned over the napkin as a waitress came over to them with a bright smile.

"A slice of the strawberry cheesecake, and a slice of the chocolate orange cake please."

As she left to go and get the food for them, Keiji scribbled his response on the bottom of the napkin underneath Yuzuru's last message.

_Who helped you_

_Someone from the Canada group_

Keiji choked on his tea. "Are you serious?" he hissed.

Yuzuru's eyes hardened and he took the napkin.

_Shush!_

_Sorry. Are you serious?_

_Yes I'm serious!_

Keiji inhaled sharply and rubbed the back of his neck.

_Shit. What happened there anyway?_

Yuzuru flinched and adjusted his hoodie with a grimace.

_Shit happened._

_Worse than Daisuke?_

_Yes._

_Did he fuck you?_

_No_

"Your cakes," the waitress interrupted them to set the plates down on the table along with a couple of forks. "Anything else I can get for you?"

"Two more cups of green tea please."

_How bad was it?_

_Daisuke and Johnny used to work together, didn't they?_

_Very tenuously. Why?_

_Some of it was very Daisuke but with a Johnny Weir twist._

Keiji raised an eyebrow at him and patted his arm. He slipped the napkin into his coat pocket before he offered Yuzuru a forkful of his cake. Yuzuru took it and smiled.

"That's really good," he offered Keiji a forkful of the strawberry cake, "try this one. It's so good."

"You're a strawberry fiend," Keiji teased and Yuzuru blushed a little. "Mm, yeah, that one is very tasty. I'll have to get it next time"

"Listen," Yuzuru's face turned serious and he lowered his voice, "I'm sorry about the other day--"

Keiji shook his head and gave him a gentle, comforting smile. "It's fine Yuzuru. You don't have to apologise."

"Yes I do."

"No you don't," Keiji interrupted him and gave him the firm look that only friend could. "It's honestly fine Yuzuru. I understand. I understand why. And hey, you only have to ask me if you want comfort and hugs or something like that. If you need, we can cuddle and watch films and eat pizza together."

Yuzuru gave him a little weak smile and they finished off their tea and cake before Yuzuru paid and they headed back out into the Tokyo winter weather. Instead of calling for one of the cars to be sent by Daisuke to pick them up, they headed through the snow-covered streets together. The flakes fell, catching in Yuzuru's hair and speckling it with white spots. His scarf was pulled up over his nose and mouth, that were also covered by a face mask, and his fingertips poked out of the bottom of his too-long coat sleeves. He and Keiji bumped shoulders as they walked together back towards their apartment. Keiji unlocked it and let Yuzuru in first with his bags. Yuzuru's smile dropped when he walked into his bedroom and found a teal box sitting on his bed. He opened up the box and groaned as all the weight that had been off him came right back onto his shoulders.

_For my best and favourite yariman ~x~_

He tossed the card down onto the bed before he picked up the sleek black wool and cashmere blend. Daisuke had bought him a brand new suit to replace the one Johnny had ruined. With a sigh, Yuzuru hung it up in his wardrobe before he closed the doors firmly and leaned his head against them. It was no good; the weight that had been lifted by the free day.

* * *

Johnny coughed and choked as blood ran down from his nose and mouth to the front of his once crisp white suit. Daisuke's eyes were murderous and he pulled Johnny's head back by his hair, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"What did you do to him?"

"Angry that someone else touched him?"

Daisuke shut Johnny up with another sharp blow to the side of his face as his anger boiled over.

"I used to like you."

"And, when you found a new little whore, you threw me aside. Does he play better than I do? Less bratty? More willing to let you use him for anything your heart desires? You get off on the domination, don't you Daisuke?"

"Of course I do," He almost laughed coldly as he struck Johnny again and again, "and you were fun, but when something as tempting and beautiful as that presents itself on a silver platter, arriving on my doorstep on its knees begging me for help, what mortal could turn him down?"

Despite the blood dripping from his mouth and the mess of cuts and bruises littering the face he was so proud of, Johnny gave Daisuke a cold little smirk to match the ice of his laughter.

"Nice to know that you're a mere mortal like the rest of us when you pretend so hard to be a god. Pure power play. That's you, isn't it? This is just another example. As soon as you're done with me, I bet you'll go and fuck your little whore to get down from the high that this has given you."

Daisuke wiped the blood on his knuckles off onto a towel before he looked at Johnny over his shoulder.

"If you're so interested in what I do to him and how much of a kick I get off the power, why don't I let you watch? See what you're missing out on. Think of it as a personal form of torture for you."

"How creative," Johnny muttered, "but I look forward to you parading around like the peacock you are."

Daisuke called Yuzuru's phone and, within two rings, the younger had picked up.

"Get to my office. Now. And wear the same thing that you wore for New Year."

Within twenty minutes, Yuzuru was led into the room. Johnny's eyes hardened at the sight of the costume that had sparked so much jealousy. Yuzuru's soft eyes took in the room and the state of Johnny as Daisuke ran his fingers through the red feathers and across Yuzuru's exposed back that was littered with healing scars and cuts.

"You called for me Takahashi-san?" Yuzuru asked and Daisuke stroked his hair, peppering the top of his head with little kisses.

"Just want to show our darling guest what he's missing out on."

Yuzuru's eyes flicked to Johnny's and they lingered for a moment too long. His cheeks burned as Daisuke pushed him down to his knees. With fluidity and grace, his legs folded underneath him and his eyes held their wide innocence as he looked up at Daisuke.

"See Weir? See how much he craves my touch?" Daisuke patted Yuzuru's cheek with fake gentleness to encourage the younger to open his mouth before he stuck two fingers into his mouth. "Look at how he is mine to use, so responsive."

"Yes, triggering his gag reflex would make him rather responsive," Johnny quipped, "congratulations."

"My little swan here is vastly superior to you."

"He's also seventeen years old."

Daisuke raised an eyebrow at Johnny as his fingertips played with the zip at dip of Yuzuru's back. Yuzuru looked over his shoulder at Johnny and his eyes narrowed.

"That wasn't a concern of yours."

Yuzuru's cold and hard tone shocked Johnny to the core and Daisuke burst out laughing. He stroked the side of Yuzuru's face as a swell of cruel pride rose inside him.

"Oh? Johnny Weir I'm disappointed with you. You dare to try and ruin my newest toy and then you have the audacity to shame me for it? For that, you will suffer."

Johnny had his head pulled up and held in place by a stoic Tatsuki. Tatsuki didn't look at the scene before him; he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the corner of the ceiling and the wall while he did his job dealing with Johnny for Daisuke, and he did his best to ignore the choking sounds and sobs that came from Yuzuru. When Daisuke was done with Yuzuru, he waved a hand and Tatsuki left Johnny to pick up Yuzuru by the arm and take him out of the room. He brought him up to his own office before he sat him down in the chair opposite the desk and poured him a glass of water.

"Can I help you Yuzuru?" Tatsuki's voice was gentle and soothing: the opposite of Daisuke's touches. "I probably have a change of clothes if you need them in this office somewhere. I've probably got some snacks if you need too?"

Yuzuru curled up on the seat and Tatsuki patted his head before he dug out a spare soft jumper and pair of sweatpants. He gave Yuzuru the privacy to change while he made him some green tea and presented him with several small onigiri to nibble on. He sat down next to Yuzuru and hugged him by the shoulder.

"If you ever need my help, Yuzuru, you know where to find me."

"You're already doing too much for me."

Tatsuki gave him a firm look filled with mixing and conflicting emotions. "I'm sorry."

Yuzuru leaned his head on his shoulder, sipping at his tea, and Tatsuki gave him a gentle pat to the shoulder. He didn’t make him move; Tatsuki only reached over for his laptop so that he could get work done while Yuzuru was sitting against him for comfort.

* * *

Javier breezed through the airport security and climbed into the car waiting for him. Scott raised an eyebrow at him through the rear-view mirror.

“How was it? Fun mission? Get shot? Get some?” He wiggled his eyebrows and burst out laughing at Javier’s withering look. “I’m joking, I’m joking. Really though, how was it? Did you guys get it?”

Javi nodded and Scott gave him a smile. “Hey, well done! First mission and it was successful! God, did Tess and I ever tell you about our first mission? It was an absolute disaster! First of all, yours truly was meant to go to Geneva. In Switzerland. To meet Stephane Lambiel. A Swiss man. Where did I end up?”

Javier snorted. “No idea Scott. What other Geneva did you go to?”

“Idaho. Geneva in Idaho.” Javier burst out laughing and Scott gave him a mock pout. “It’s not funny!”

“Yes, it is!” Javier cackled. “What did Tessa do?”

“Call me up when I didn’t make it to our rendezvous point at the right time asking where the hell I was. I then had to explain it to her. Know what she said?”

Javier just raised an eyebrow, trying to hold in his laughter. “What did she say to you Scott?”

“She said to me ‘It’s alright. You’ve got your laptop, right? Can you just send me the extra files securely so that I can do the negotiations with Stephane? It’s easier than trying to reschedule it.’ The nerve! Of course, she managed to get an amazing deal with Stephane because that’s Tessa and she’s that talented.”

“She is very talented,” Javier agreed before his laughter died down and his face fell back to serious. “It feels weird to be returning with just Patrick.”

“I get it,” Scott pulled the car into the underground parking below their complex, “but we parted well with Yuna. At least she won’t be on the run for the rest of her life from all of this, and she has done a lot for Brian and us. Plus, South Korea is a good choice. A little too close to Japan and _them_ but the country itself, I think, has no group in it.”

“She’ll be safe?”

“Yeah, should be,” Scott shrugged as they walked up the stairs together towards the main office. “but she’s also not really our concern anymore. I think Brian is keeping in contact with her just in case she ever needs us, but she’s just another civilian, you know?”

Javier nodded and Scott gave him a light pat to the shoulder as they came up to a mahogany office door. The older knocked on it for Javier.

“Got him for you Brian!”

An older man opened the door and smiled as relief flooded his features. He gestured to the pair to come in and, sitting on the sofa next to the desk, was Patrick. He looked pale, exhausted, but relieved. Under his shirt, the bandages and dressings on his shoulder were clearly visible. Javier sank into the sofa next to him and Scott settled on the other side of Javier, putting him in the middle. Javier handed Brian the memory stick and the oldest in the room gave the three of them a smile.

“Well done. I’m proud of you. Very good job, and very well done. You’re fantastic. Take a break for a few days after this, alright?”

“But do you not need us to help with the raids? With stopping their arms deals?” Patrick cut in, chewing his lip.

Brian fixed him with a level look. “That’s not for you to worry about Patrick. You’re not to do anything until you’re fully recovered anyway.” Patrick opened his mouth to protest but Brian held up a hand. “No. I mean it. You can help out in the restaurant but no training, no overworking yourself, nothing. Clear?”

Patrick had a grim expression on his face but he nodded, accepting Brian’s comments. The older then gave them a comforting smile before he dismissed them and let them go.

“What exactly happened to you?” Javi asked Patrick in a low voice as Scott stayed behind in the office to talk to Brian. “I mean…” he gestured to the bandages on Patrick’s shoulder.

“One of the bastards shot me. Just after we parted on the way to the airport.” Patrick explained with a shrug that he instantly regretted. “Thought I had it, so at least the distraction worked and they didn’t go after you.”

“I’m so—”

“Don’t apologise,” Patrick cut him off and gave him a small smile. “It was part of my job. You did your job, Yuna did her job, and I did mine. And we pulled it off well.”

Javier nodded and his mind couldn’t help but wander. Patrick left him to go and get his dressings for his shoulder changed, and Javier headed down to the training area to clear his head. He pounded the treadmill with his music blasting in his earphones for as long as he could, losing himself in the exercise until his muscles begged and screamed for him to stop. Only then did he climb off and wipe his face off on the bottom of his shirt before he picked up the throwing knives and tossed them at the targets. Each one missed the centre and his frustration grew, making his technique sloppier and sloppier. When he was finally out of knives, he took the time to catch his breath and his frustration hit him in waves.

“Your irritation is getting the best of you,” Javi looked up and wiped his face on his shirt to see Brian lingering in the doorway. “Calm. I know it’s hard, but you need to stay calm. Focus on where you want the knife to go, not on hitting the target. Does that make sense?”

Javier nodded, pulling them from the wall, and Brian watched him with a careful and wise eye. Little by little, his accuracy improved and he started to hit the centres of the targets instead of the edges. Brian nodded in satisfaction and patted him on the back, sending him home. Javier walked through the snow, dragging his cases behind him, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

_Unknown number: Thank you_

_Anytime_


End file.
